


Escapade

by PhilosophicalRune



Category: Sanders Sides, Sanders Sides (Video Blogging RPF) - Fandom, Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Blood, No Smut, Panic Attacks, Swearing, mainly prinxiety but there's some nice logicality too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-05 08:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12790674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilosophicalRune/pseuds/PhilosophicalRune
Summary: In a perhaps not-so-unexpected turn of events, Roman is going off onto another one of his quests. However, this time he cannot brashly frolic about the land, charging into battle with the feared Dragon Witch purely because he can. This time, he has someone waiting for him back at home, and this someone is almost certainly going to have a panic attack if he doesn't return home from his quest in exactly three days. What starts off as an adventurous escapade quickly takes a turn for the deadly as Roman finds that suddenly, his life is not the only one at stake when he makes his final confrontation with the feared Dragon Witch.An entree of Prinxiety angst with an appetizer of Logicality fluff. Fic is complete, and will update every other day!





	1. Bad Idea

“Roman, listen, I know I may be sounding really boy-who-cried-wolfish right now, but this time I really think this is a  _ bad idea _ .”

Roman turned at the sharp tug he felt at his wrist. Looking up, he saw Virgil staring at him with an expression of sheer desperation and fear. The anxious side was clinging to his wrist, still too unsure as to whether he was comfortable enough to hold Roman’s hand. 

They were standing outside the doorway to Roman’s room, the entryway to a land that was full of equal parts wonder and mystery. It was home to a variety of flora and fauna, creatures of Roman’s creation, but also home to a number of goblins and beasts that had somehow found a niche in so bright and happy a place. They provided Roman with a reason to vent his princely desire to protect, so he often went on quests to annihilate them so that he may have people like Virgil over for Disney movie marathons. It was deeply annoying to Roman to have these gentle moments with his boyfriend interrupted by the caterwauling of a banshee or the devilish snickers of a gnome. 

But the most terrible and dangerous of beasts was the feared Dragon Witch, a creature of terrible might that was a menace to all present in Roman’s kingdom. She was of course a child of Roman’s powerful imagination, but she was infused with an almost indestructible force; teenage insecurity. Yes, Roman had created the Dragon Witch with the involuntary help of Virgil back in Thomas’s teenage years, when the man was dealing with the frightening development of hormones, homework, and homosexuality. In sheer desperation to alleviate his negative feelings, Roman had accidentally created a dragon that also had the power of witchcraft. She had been wreaking havoc on the mind palace ever since; a lot of Thomas’s memories were lost because of her, as she went on frequent forays to destroy everything she could before she got tired and returned to her cave to sleep for another few months. 

Roman had recently been tracking her sleeping pattern very carefully, and, with the statistical help of Logan, had pinpointed another Dragon Witch rampage to be scheduled for this week. And so, with his sword slung over his shoulder and a care package Patton had shoved into his hands, he bid the Sides farewell. Logan and Patton had let him go with only minor apprehension. 

Virgil, on the other hand, had been more reluctant. 

And thus, he had chased Roman to his door, and begged him to stay behind.

Roman, not breaking his gaze, gently put down Patton’s parting gift and slung off his sword. His throat suddenly felt swollen with constricted tears. He was stricken by an intense pang of love for the man before him, a sensation that started in his chest and extended to every part of his body. He reached out, and gently pulled Virgil closer, one hand wrapping slowly around his waist, and the other tenderly cupping his soft cheek. Virgil, unsure what to do with his hands, stood awkwardly, his hands at his sides. He was unable to look directly at Roman for extended periods, even now when they had been dating for months. It was one of his many nervous habits.  

“You don’t sound like that at all, love,” Roman murmured, “I know you never utter any warning without good reason.”

Virgil tore his eyes away and stared resolutely at the fallen sword and scabbard. He nibbled his lip, his blinking increasing; Roman knew that this was his way of stifling tears. “I just feel like...like something bad is going to happen. I-I can’t explain it.”

He looked up at Roman, his eyes heavy with tears. “I really think you’re in danger this time, Ro.”

Roman blinked at the nickname and at the assertive tone in which Virgil made his prediction. He sighed, resting his forehead against Virgil’s, forming his words carefully. 

“Verge...I’m always in danger. Every time I go in my room there’s always a slight chance that something bad is going to happen. And I was content with that for a while.”

“Was?” Virgil interrupted, swiveling his eyes back to Roman’s.

“Was,” Roman assented, “Until we started our relationship.”

He tenderly kissed Virgil on the forehead, and smirked gently at the blush that instantly appeared on the anxious side’s face. “The Dragon Witch is very manipulative. If she finds out about...us...she’ll find a way to get to me. And she would do that-”

“-By getting me.” Virgil finished flatly. 

There was a thin silence. 

“Please, Virgil, understand I’m not blaming this on you,” Roman murmured, swiping his thumb over Virgil’s cheek to brush away a tear that had spilled from his eye, “Being with you has made me stop... _ procrastinating  _ on my mission. It’s made me realize that my lack of action can have consequences. Serious consequences.”

His finger gently traced a fresh, pink scar along Virgil’s jaw; a memory of an encounter with a goblin in Roman’s room the week before. 

“...You got that goblin, though,” Virgil muttered. 

Roman smiled, gently pulling Virgil closer and burying his nose in his hair. He breathed in his scent, a pleasing mixture of mint and cinnamon that he had grown to love over the past few weeks. He would miss it on his journey. 

“I did, love, but they are all under the influence of the Dragon Witch. She is the one who sends them after us,” he murmured, “With her gone, it would be easier to...remove them. And you’d never get hurt again.”

Roman tensed only slightly when he felt unsure arms wrap around his waist, and squeeze him tightly. He felt Virgil move forward, and moved his hand away so that Virgil may bury his face into the crook of Roman’s neck. The love he felt deep in his chest throbbed achingly as he felt Virgil shaking with tears. 

“I-I don’t want you to go,” Virgil whispered, his voice cracking.  

Roman sighed, wrapping his other arm around Virgil’s waist. He had always imagined having a tearful farewell with a lover before he embarked on a perilous quest, but  _ fuck,  _ he had never imagined it to hurt this bad. Now that his lover was finally here, and now that he was finally begging him to stay, he felt completely torn, like a dog’s favorite chew toy. In a way, Virgil as a lover was teaching him more about princehood than any of his past adventures. 

Roman’s heart ached. He could feel Virgil’s heartbreak in the way the man shuddered with sobs, in the intensity in which he hugged, and in the way he placed his full weight in Roman’s arms. 

“...I-I don’t want to go either,” he murmured, running his hand through Virgil’s unruly hair. 

He felt Virgil stiffen, and he pulled away suddenly, an accusatory look in his wet eyes. “Then why are you leaving? Why won’t you  _ stay? _ ” he hissed.

“Because if I don’t act now, Virgil, all of you are at risk!” Roman replied sharply.

Virgil looked reproachful, and he quickly snapped his jaw shut. Roman cringed. 

“...I’m sorry, Virgil. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just...I  _ just _ got to call you my lover...and I can’t stand the thought of losing you at the claws of something I should have taken care of sooner.”

Virgil softened at the apologetic gleam in Roman’s eyes, and gently placed a chaste kiss on his cheek; all was forgiven. 

Roman gently tugged at Virgil’s waist, asking in gesture for him to lean forward. When Virgil obliged and pressed against his prince, Roman almost convinced himself that he could wait until next month to vanquish the Dragon Witch. Maybe she wouldn’t cause too much damage this month. Maybe he  _ should  _ stay...

_ No,  _ he thought,  _ I can’t take that risk.  _

“I have to go,” he murmured softly into Virgil’s hair. 

There was a moment of silence, before Virgil shakily nodded. “I know.”

Roman wrapped his arm around Virgil’s waist once more, and carded his fingers through the anxious side’s hair. Virgil looked up, and locked eyes with Roman. He saw the determination in his gaze, an emotion that was coupled with intense sorrow. Virgil still had a little trouble figuring out when Roman was acting or when he was truly emoting, but this time, he knew the Prince was genuine. 

Without hardly a conscious thought, Virgil leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss onto Roman’s lips. The Prince’s eyes fell closed, and Virgil was quick to follow suit. Roman pulled Virgil closer so that he may absorb every sensation he felt in the kiss; the weight of Virgil in his arms, the heat radiating from his hoodie and his lips, the strength behind the arms wrapping him up in a heartfelt embrace. 

They broke apart after a few moments, mouths barely apart as they merely breathed, their eyes still closed. Roman could feel Virgil’s warm breath on his lips, and he could taste the cookie he had stolen out of Patton’s care package earlier. 

He wanted to stand there forever, always savoring Virgil, but he knew he was wasting precious time. Logan, after an hour of crunching numbers, had predicted the Dragon Witch to rise tomorrow at midnight. As she resided on the other side of his kingdom, he had to move fast. 

Roman opened his eyes. “I-I really have to go, Verge.”

Virgil scrunched his eyes shut tighter, and bit down on his own lip. Roman was afraid he would force him not to go, but the anxious side nodded, and unwound his arms from the prince’s waist and backed away.

Roman immediately felt cold.

When Virgil reopened his eyes, they were glistening with tears once more. He nodded, a jerky bob of his head. “I know.”

Roman slowly picked up the care package, taking care to ensure it was carefully tied. He reached for his sword and scabbard, but found it to be gone. He opened his mouth to say something, but felt gentle hands placing the familiar leather weight around his shoulders. 

Roman straightened up after Virgil had made sure the sword was properly strung across his shoulders. The anxious side stood back to admire his work, a faint smile of pride quirking at the corner of his lips. 

“You’ll be back in three days, right?” Virgil asked quietly, but in a tone that scarcely managed to hide a command. 

Roman grinned. “On my honor.”

Virgil blinked, and nodded, his hands sinking deep into the depths of his hoodie pockets. He watched as Roman turned and opened the door to his room. Instantly, sunlight and birdsong leaked out into the hallway. Roman took one step in, and looked like he was about to shut the door, before he turned around and threw a wink at Virgil.

“I love you, Verge.”

“...’Love you too, dork.”

The sunlight and birdsong vanished along with the Prince as the door clicked shut. 

The hole in Virgil’s heart slowly began to fill with dread. He sighed, flipped up his hood, and went across the hall to his room. He shut and locked his door before Patton or Logan could intercept him and offer him awkward sympathy. 

Three days was a long time to wait. 


	2. Virgil's Favour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an isolated Roman tries to brave the lonely night. A care package from home makes him feel a lot better.

After Roman had shut the door to his room, he took a deep breath and shook his head. The ache in his heart had acutely throbbed when he had turned his back on Virgil. Despite the warm rays of sun that filtered down onto his uniform, he felt a distinct chill around the areas Virgil had touched. He licked his lips, tasting a faint trace of cookie, and sighed. Spreading his shoulders back, he strode off into the direction of his stables.

It had been decided unanimously by all the Sides to keep from Thomas the knowledge that Roman had a horse called Maximus. There was, of course, a reference to _Tangled_ in Roman’s choice of name. Roman found it a little difficult to merely sink into the darker corners of his kingdom, a corner of his room that fell into the darker portion of Thomas’s mind. Whether it was because he was harboring a well hidden fear of that corner of his kingdom, or whether he had too poor of a mental map of the area, Roman loved an excuse to ride his horse just like the stereotypical prince he was.

Maximus was a powerful white steed who stood at a solid fifteen hands high. His coat, mane, and tail were snow white. He was, of course, another child of Roman’s mind, so he had some good qualities unusual to other horses. Roman sensed that the horse possessed a certain level of intelligence abnormal to his equine brethren, and that he was empathetic and brave. This notion was often questioned whenever Maximus was frightened by his own shadow, or walked into posts. Despite his clumsiness, Roman knew Maximus was an intelligent creature.

Roman took the time to explain to Maximus their mission as he readied his gear for the long journey through his kingdom. Maximus always watched him with careful eyes whenever he spoke, his ears pointed forward, and he nickered at all of the right places. However, the horse’s eyes usually strayed to the saddle bags full of supplies for the trip; the horse knew that a number of treats lay within those bags.

Within ten minutes, Roman had stepped up into the saddle, and urged Maximus to a gallop as they headed West into the sunset. The cliche was not lost on Roman, but it also could not be denied that it lent him a great thrill.

As the sun began to set and the familiar terrain began to be cloaked in shadow, Roman became lost in thought. It was easy for him to daydream as he rode a horse. He knew he was an expert horseman, and Maximus was an easy horse to handle. The pounding, repetitive rhythm of the horse’s hooves was conducive to deep thought.

He found himself worrying about the Dragon Witch.

Roman had faced many a foe in his day, but none was ever so difficult to face as that vile serpent. He often came back from battles with her battered, bruised, and recovering from her various charms and spells; all she had were mere scratches. However, the most impressive damage Roman had inflicted on her was blinding her in her left eye.

She, in return, had torn a terrible gash along his back. Fortunately, Roman always carried a Dragon Witch first aid kit, in which he was able to stitch himself up and stop himself from bleeding to death. The wound had taken a while to heal, yet none of the other Sides had seemed to notice his stiffness and unwillingness to take off his shirt, as he often did when he slept. Virgil was the only one who knew of its existence, due to his recent upgrade from ‘friend’ to ‘ lover’.

Roman was slightly apprehensive of his imminent encounter with the Dragon Witch, but something in his gut told him that this would be his last time venturing to the Witch’s lair. The wounds he inflicted on the dragon’s body seemingly could not be healed by magic; as the ruler of this world, Roman had his own version of magic, and he had enchanted his sword so that the wounds it inflicted could not heal.

After a long while of galloping, Roman slowed Maximus down to a swift trot. The horse seemed to protest by a sharp flick of his mane and a tug on his reins; he wanted to keep going. But Roman knew his limits, and resolutely kept him at a trot. Roman focused on the terrain around them; the area was scrubby, with low growing shrubs and and knots of of sage. There were occasional groves of ash trees, and a twitch of movement could be attributed to a rabbit frightened by the powerful hooves of Maximus. A chilly breeze swept across the land. Roman shivered slightly, pressing his arms closer to his sides. A slight twinge in his chest reminded him of how warm Virgil’s embrace had felt just hours before.

He already missed him.

Maximus nickered, turning his head slightly to look at him. Roman smiled softly, once again certain that the horse possessed deep emphatic mindsets. He patted the horse on the neck.

“Thanks, pal- _Merlin’s beard!_ ” Roman said, ending his sentence with a swear and a cry as Maximus stumbled down a shallow bank and into a creek. The horse whinnied with fright, and bucked several times, splashing up sprays of chilly water.

Roman, recovering from his shock quickly, leapt off of Maximus, and with a calm voice and soothing gestures, calmed the stallion back down.

“How about we stop for the night, buddy?” Roman suggested, shivering as he stood in the chilly flow of the creek. Moonlight quivered and quaked on the slight trickle of the water.

Maximus blew into his hand, and under Roman’s lead, walked onto the pebbly banks of the small creek. Roman did a quick inspection of the horse to make sure he had not injured himself in the slight tumble. Satisfied that he was fine, Roman unpacked a picket line from Maximus’s saddle bag as the horse gracefully lowered his neck for a drink. Unhitching and caring for Maximus was a simple task for Roman, so he found his thoughts wandering again. As he curried the sweat from Maximus’s sleek coat, he wondered how the others were doing.

Logan was probably in his room, an arch of notebooks, books, and crumpled papers littering his desk, a pen skittering enthusiastically over notebooks, post-it notes, and graph paper. He would rocket back and forth between his vast desk and his whiteboard on his wheeling stool, working on one of the great mysteries of the universe, enjoying every moment in his weird, nerdy way.

Patton was probably just cleaning up from dinner, washing the dishes and not at all feeling bitter that Logan usually disappeared directly after dinner to work on some idea that had been fed to life by the sustenance. Roman occasionally helped with cleaning, but he too often had a rush of ideas after eating. It was sort of a ritual of Virgil and Patton’s to wash up after dinner. Though Virgil would never admit it, it was their bonding time. The two were probably quietly talking about how cute or dorky (depends upon who you asked) it was that Logan always put his whole soul into his work, or that Roman always worked on his ideas from the bottom of his heart. After cleaning, Patton would probably return to his room, tidy up, and settle down to nostalgize or play on his gameboy.

Virgil, after helping Patton clean, would also return to his room. Depending upon his mood, he would either go straight to bed, or stay up to browse the Internet while listening to music. Roman now knew that he also sometimes wrote little stories or poems, but he had been sworn to secrecy. He would stay up late into the night and early into the morning, naturally being a night owl. Roman alway had to fight hard to stay awake with Virgil as they lay together in the living quarters of Roman’s room. That was one fight he was willing to lose.

Roman blinked as Maximus nuzzled his hand softly, his nostalgic train of thought interrupted. He hadn’t noticed that he had stopped currying until Maximus had licked his hand, the other of which was clinging tightly to the horse’s soft mane.

Roman sighed. “I’m sorry, old friend,” he whispered. “I just...miss him, is all.”

Dejected, Roman packed Maximus’s gear away and scrounged around the surrounding area for wood. He could hear the soft breeze whistling over the stones, and the grinding of Maximus’s teeth as the horse picked and chewed the sweet grass.

Within half an hour, Roman was settled against Maximus’s side, the horse having laid down beside the fire, his ears pricked and alert. Roman was snapping twigs and tossing them into the small flame he had going. The sound of summer crickets and katydids chorused quietly in the air.

A chilly breeze blustered from the west. Roman inhaled deeply, closing his eyes; the scent of the darker corner of Thomas’s mind hit his nose. He faintly smelled the characteristic scent of burning and decay. He shuddered, bringing Patton’s care package up to his face; it smelled of cookies and of the moral side’s sweet caramel and vanilla scent. He smiled, feeling slightly closer to home. Roman rooted around in the package, withdrawing a first aid kit filled with excess gauze, sutures, disinfectant, and morphine syringes (Virgil’s gift), a small, handmade pamphlet on navigation (Logan’s contribution), and two treat apples for Maximus (Patton had a special spot in his heart for the horse).

Roman dug around one last time in the satchel, listening to Maximus making delighted horse noises as he nibbled the apples, and pulled out a bag of Patton’s home baked cookies. They were already opened. Roman smirked as he imagined Virgil unable to resist the urge to steal a cookie even as Roman was saying goodbye. The man never could deny a sweet.

As Roman settled down to read the manual on navigation he had read a hundred times already, as this was not the first time the pamphlet had made its way into the Roman’s care packages, he suddenly felt a chill that was unrelated to the eerie breeze to the west. Even though Maximus’s living warmth was keeping his shoulders and back warm, and his feet were warm in the heat of the flames, a distinct chill roamed his midsection.

Roman closed his eyes and listened intently; all of the sides were deeply connected, and they could feel one another’s presence if they listened hard enough. It was a simple heartbeat that they heard. Roman was listening for Virgil’s.

Virgil always had a quick heart rate. This was hardly surprising, as he was the literal embodiment of anxiety. But as Roman focused, he noticed that Virgil’s heart was pounding unnaturally fast, and that it occasionally skipped a beat. Roman knew at once what this meant; Virgil was having an anxiety attack.

Hot guilt and shame washed over the prince as he curled closer to Maximus. He wished he could be there to comfort his boyfriend, but all he could do was listen to his heart. So he did the next best thing; he took deep breaths to steady his own heart, and sent out an aura of reassuring vibes, hoping that the anxious side would listen. If the sides listened hard enough, or if one of them was feeling something particularly strongly, they could feel what the others were feeling.

Soon, Maximus began to grow restless. He whickered quietly, licking Roman’s ear to gain his attention. The prince turned, and saw Maximus nudging the care package.

“No more apples, Max,” Roman said, taking the bag and turning it upside down to demonstrate its emptiness. To his surprise, a small, plump book tumbled out, along with a scroll of hastily torn notebook paper tied with a strip of fabric.

Roman raised an eyebrow at Maximus, who immediately lost interest in everything Roman was doing and contented himself by watching the stream go by, and snatched up the letter before it was lost to the breeze.

It was tied closed with a long strip of fabric. In the dark of night, Roman could not read the note nor see the fabric or the book, so he leaned forward to the light of the flames.

The scroll was tied shut with a thin strand of purple plaid.

Roman tore it open at once. He recognized Virgil’s untidy scrawl: _Here’s some better reading material, because Logan has no taste- V._

Roman, grinning like an idiot, picked up the book and saw that it was his favorite; a volume containing the tale of King Arthur and his fellow knights on the search for the Holy Grail. Virgil must have snuck it in when he was stealing a cookie.

Setting the book aside, Roman tenderly tied the strip of purple plaid around his wrist. A lover’s favour to their knight. Suddenly, he felt a distinct warmth spread through his chest. He focused back again on Virgil, sending all of his gratitude and positive vibes. To his relief, he could feel a steady heartbeat and happy yet aching aura from Virgil. Roman sighed, patted Maximus on the nose, and curled back up to read.

The breeze continued to blow as Roman read, and despite the token on his wrist and the steady heartbeat he heard suggesting that Virgil was sleeping, he became achingly more aware that the space beside him was so, so empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, friends! Here is chapter two. For those of you who are unfamiliar, in the time of knights (i.e. medieval times), it was customary for a knight's fair maiden to give her knight a 'token of her favour', which usually took the form of an armband or bracelet. (Stupid, right? What the fuck gender roles). As Roman is a knight, I deemed it only appropriate that Virgil give him such a token, and besides; it might play a role later.  
> I also like the idea of Roman with a horse; I took inspiration from Alexander the Great's horse, Buchephalus. I basically just changed his color and rechristened him Maximus to appear more like the Disney horse. Yes, I have recently watched Tangled, how did you guess?  
> Anyway, thanks for sticking with me; I know it seems a little slow right now, but I promise the action and the angst will increase very soon! Next chapter is scheduled to be posted on Saturday. In the meantime, leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! :3


	3. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Patton is very subtle about being mad that no one is eating his spaghetti. Or is he actually just concerned?

As Roman had been galloping across his kingdom thinking of nothing in particular, the rest of the Sides were having a very quiet meal in the mind palace commons. Their thoughts were all focused on the Prince in one way or another. Conspicuous only by his absence at the head of the table, the sides kept casting glances to his throne-like chair whenever they made small attempts at conversation. 

Patton peered at the two other sides, one of whom was naturally sullen and the other of whom was being unusually silent. He watched with mounting concern as Virgil merely swirled his fork in his spaghetti, his cheek resting on his hand and his mouth turned down in a scowl, and as Logan merely nibbled on his pasta, his expression suggesting his mind was quite obviously somewhere else. Every once in awhile, his brows furrowed in what Virgil called his ‘recalculating’ face, an expression that was characteristic of the side’s train of thought being derailed. 

Patton decided to lighten up the moment. “Well, I’m sure the spaghetti isn’t  _ that  _ bad, kiddos!” he lightly chided, causing Virgil to jump and Logan to recalculate. 

Virgil sighed, and pushed his plate away. “Sorry...I’m not really hungry.”

“I find that I’m also having difficulty focusing on eating when I’m finding my thoughts straying towards the safety and wellbeing of Roman,” Logan said monotonously, taking a small bite anyway just to please the moral side. 

Virgil seemed to loosen. “You’re worried about Roman?” he asked. While his question sounded slightly scorning, Patton and Logan both knew it concealed Virgil’s relief at not being the only one worrying.  

“We both are, kiddo.” Patton replied, watching Virgil closely. 

The anxious side swallowed thickly, not making any eye contact. However, he spoke up, his tone tentative. “...I-I...I thought I was being stupid, worrying about him...even though he’s only just gone.”

Logan and Patton exchanged startled glances. It was rare for Virgil to open up about what he was really feeling; he usually cracked an inappropriate joke or behaved in some other crude manner whenever he was experiencing an unpleasant emotion.

“It is not stupid to worry about his wellbeing, Virgil,” Logan said, “He is a part of this family. And after all, I guess it can be argued that I, too, am worried, and I generally do not participate in stupid activities. You can reassured by that fact.”

“Thanks...I guess,” Virgil grumbled, frowning but raising his eyebrows at Patton, who looked proud at Logan’s attempt to be reassuring. 

Logan nodded. “It is also perfectly natural for you especially to be... _ disturbed _ by Roman’s absence. As your mate, it would be rather surprising and suggestive of ill emotion if you were not worrying about him, or missing him.”  he added. 

Patton winced; Virgil was still very touchy about discussing his newfound relationship with Roman with the other two. He quickly intervened before Virgil could flip up his hood and sink out of the room.

“What he means, kiddo, is that it’s OK to be sad. It’s OK to worry too, because...well…”

He had wanted to finish his sentence by saying  _ he could be in trouble,  _ but he could not bring himself to say it. 

“Because he could be in danger.” Virgil finished for him, his voice flat.

“Well, yeah.” Patton said sheepishly, “I guess I didn’t have the  _ heart  _ to say that, though. Eh?  _ Eh? _ ” he said, elbowing Logan until the logical side gave a mechanical laugh that had an undertone suggestive of a desire to enter the next life. 

Virgil flipped up his hood, and hunched his shoulders. 

“Roman will be fine, Verge,” Patton said quietly, reaching across the table to gently pat Virgil’s bowed head. Logan pulled a skeptical expression, and Patton ferociously leveled a glare at him.

“I agree, Virgil,” Logan said quickly to appease Patton, his voice as monotone as ever if only a tiny bit strained, “Roman knows how to handle himself, and he knows the terrain.”

Virgil was not really listening. Tears were forming in his eyes, and his heart was racing with the uncomfortable speed of an impending panic attack. His lungs felt tight, and his fingers and nose began to tingle with the onset of hyperventilation.

But suddenly, Virgil could feel a gentle pull deep in his mind. He listened hard, and heard a strong, steady heartbeat. A warm, tender aura of protectiveness and reassurance seemed to emanate from his brain to the rest of his body. He could feel the ghosts of Roman’s arms around his waist, and he could hear him taking deep calming breaths. Roman was trying to tell him that he was, and was going to be, alright. The worry in Virgil’s chest was gradually replaced with a knot of aching yet pleasant sorrow.

Roman couldn't have chose a better time to be reassuring, for Virgil found himself instantly calming down. He sighed deeply, feeling returning to his fingers and his nose. He suddenly felt deeply exhausted.

“Yeah,” he said, looking up at the other two with a sad expression, “he will be okay.”

With this, he rose, and cleared away his dishes. Without another word, he went down the hallway and into his room. Logan and Patton listened as his door clicked gently shut.

There was a heavy silence at the table as Logan and Patton continued to gaze at the spot where Virgil had disappeared. Patton released a heavy sigh, and his comforting smile was replaced with a dejected frown.

“I think it would be unwise to remain so... _ optimistic _ about Roman’s overall chances of returning from his venture unscathed, Patton.” Logan murmured quietly, turning to look at Patton with heavy eyes.

Patton rose, and quietly began to gather up his dishes. “I know, Lo. But what am I going to say to him?” he said, gesturing limply to where the anxious side had disappeared, “He’s so fragile already.”

Patton placed his dishes in the sink and began wiping the counters, unable to look at Logan for fear of breaking down with all of his worry. He heard Logan rising, a rush of water from the tap suggesting he was rinsing off his dishes.  

“I suppose the wisest course of action would be to conceal our true thoughts on the matter from him, and try to convince him that our false optimistic words and actions are genuine,” Logan said quietly, causing Patton to turn around and see him wringing his hands through a dish towel, his mouth a thin line. 

Patton grinned. “You’re learning,” he said, leaning up to quickly peck the logical side on the cheek, “And I’m proud of you for the way you acted towards him earlier.”

The corner of Logan’s mouth twitched. “It was a little difficult, concealing my take on the manner, but I have taken to studying psychology lately so that I may better be able to interact with him should he be feeling mentally or emotionally ill.”

Patton broke out into a huge grin. “This is why you’re my hero.”

Logan smiled.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, back in his room, Virgil was listening intently to Roman’s heartbeat. He wondered whether Roman had found the note he had snuck into the care package, and whether or not he was cold, or scared, or lonely. Despite Logan and Patton’s kind words, he found himself being gripped once again by an anxiety attack. His heart beat uncomfortably fast, and skipped beats. He let out a whimper, and began to dread the long night ahead of him. 

But before he could even begin to take calming breaths, a sudden wave of intense warmth and gratitude swept over him. The goosebumps on his arms vanished.  Blinking, he sat up, rubbing his arms to alleviate the sudden, unknown feeling. Was he experiencing a mood swing? No; he could feel Roman’s heartbeat without even focusing, and suddenly he knew that it was Roman that was making him feel this way.

Virgil smiled, and knew Roman had found his gift.

And with the warm sound of Roman’s heartbeat in his mind, he was able to lay down and calmly try to sleep.

Try was the key word. He found it hard to sleep when he felt the cold, empty space beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Here's chapter three. I promise, promise, prOMISE that the action will increase in the coming chapters; the chapters themselves will increase in length too. But anyway, there was some Logicality here! How about them apples?
> 
> Thanks again for sticking around: Chapter Four will be posted on Monday.


	4. An Incorrect Hypothesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roman enters the territory of the Dragon Witch, Logan gets a little obsessed with the finer points of cookie dough scooping, and Virgil listens to MCR at damaging volumes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I'm posting notes at the beginning as opposed to the end??? Crazy, dawg. But I wanted to grab your attention prior to reading. Chapter Four is short, and I know it's dragging a little, friends, but fear not! Chapters Six, Seven, and Eight account for more than half of the fic's entire length! Together, they are roughly 12,000 (count 'em) TWELVE THOUSAND WORDS LONG. That's a lot, considering the fic in its entirety is nearly 21,000 words long. So don't worry; I really crank up the angst (and fluff) in the coming chapters. Just stick around a little longer; you have something to look forward to this week! 
> 
> Gods bless you all, and have a good read. Don't forget to drink water.

As the night fell into morning, the wretched breeze from the west blew sharply across Roman’s sleeping face. The Prince blinked torpidly, his face numb from the incessant wind. Blinking thickly to dislodge the crust from his eyes, he peered to the east and saw the iridescent purple rays of the rising sun. The great wash of colors emblazoning the early morning sky took his breath away. He had seen thousands of sunrises, but every one he saw always felt like the first. 

He momentarily forgot himself and his mission until he felt Maximus move beneath his shoulders. The horse was also staring into the sunrise, his ears swiveling in many directions. Upon feeling Roman looking at him, he nickered in greeting. The horse rose, leaving Roman to fall upon the ground.

“I know...I know, I’m up,” Roman hissed, rubbing his eyes and tensing as the horse stepped over him to get a drink from the creek. 

As Maximus trotted up and down the length of his picket line, Roman set about clearing away his meagre fire pit. He did not want his route to be traceable, not only so evil things would not be able to follow, but also so the other Sides would not come looking for him should he get in trouble. Roman was well aware of Logan’s knowledge of navigation, and Virgil now had a very finely attuned sense of where he was at any given time. He wanted to keep them safe.  

Roman’s stomach rumbled. Rooting around in Maximus’s saddlebag, he pulled out a sandwich, courtesy of Patton, and munched as he thought about his plan for the day. He had calculated his position the night before, using strategies he had memorized from Logan’s book. With a swift journey and little distraction, he should arrive in the Dragon Witch’s territory by dusk. This would allow him plenty of time to get into a good position and eat something sustaining. He would then tie Maximus up, and trudge alone to the Dragon Witch’s lair. There, he would have to wait outside of the entrance, for the Dragon Witch always put an impenetrable shield around her den when she slept, making killing her in her sleep impossible. This was just fine by Roman’s standards, as, in his opinion, there was something unjust about killing a creature in its slumber.

And so, after giving Maximus ample time to digest his breakfast, Roman geared the steed back up, and continued off to the darker half of his kingdom. The sun behind them reflected on the clouds that banked against the western horizon, making them appear solid black and smoky. 

Roman, despite the exhilaration he always felt when racing across open land on a horse, couldn't help but shudder. The black fringe of clouds marked the beginning of the Dragon Witch’s territory. It was a thick curtain of smoke, ash, and cloud. Roman could already taste it minutely when the wind blew particularly strong into his face.

As the sun drew higher and higher in the sky, the white equine streak topped with a shock of purple hair below began to become hazier and hazier as it was beginning to be lost from view, engulfed by swirling gusts of wind littered with dust and ash. 

 

* * *

 

Throughout the day, Patton and Logan did their level best to keep Virgil occupied. They spent most of the day catching up on  _ Stranger Things _ , but around four o'clock, Virgil had had enough and resorted to surfing the Internet on his phone.

Logan was impressed by the strong face Virgil put on; if he didn’t scrutinize the anxious side for long enough, he would have been convinced that nothing more pressing and nerve wracking than usual was on his mind. He would still crack inappropriate, self-deprecating jokes whenever the opportunity arose, and he still spent his time lying flat on his back on the commons couch, his heavy headphones over his ears with his hood up. 

At first, Logan had assumed that Virgil was fine, and upon seeing Virgil acting what he deemed to be entirely normal, he went to Patton in a slightly bewildered state. “He seems to be acting normally. I theorized that the increased factor of stress would be having detrimental effects on him, but it appears that my prediction was incorrect.” he spluttered.

“Aw shucks, Logan,” Patton whispered cheerily, looking up from a bowl of cookie dough he was preparing, “Not all signs of feeling bad can be seen that easily, y’know?” 

“I assume you are referencing signs of mental and emotional distress,” Logan said, speaking in normal tones, aware that Virgil was listening to music far too loud for him to overhear their conversation. In fact, Logan could clearly hear My Chemical Romance’s ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ emanating from Virgil’s headphones from his spot on the other side of the room. 

Patton nodded, enthusiastically scooping dough onto the sheet in misshapen lumps. Logan, his perfectionist standards kicking in, took a spoon and began showing the moral side how to properly form dough balls.

“Have you listened for Roman recently?” Logan asked quietly as he guided Patton’s hands, suddenly feeling the need to murmur as he heard the song end.

Patton’s happy posture was minutely deflated at the question. He nodded, his head bowing down. “...He’s scared.”

Logan gently bumped his shoulder against the moral side, as affectionate a gesture as he was comfortable with at this present moment as his hands were covered with cookie dough, and mustered up a reassuring smile. “He is. But if it is any consolation, I’ve read a number of studies detailing the benefits of having fear before one engages in stressful situations. This goes for simple things like performing on stage, as well as more dire situations like the one Roman has found himself in. The major conclusion I arrived at was that having fear, and thus heightened adrenaline, is actually beneficial to-”

Logan was cut off by Patton surging upwards to kiss him. His mind went utterly blank, though his heart picked up its pace. 

After a few seconds, Patton pulled away, grinning like a fool, and hugging Logan’s stiff form tightly. “Thanks, Lo, that was a big confirmation.”

“Consolation,” corrected a voice behind them. The two other sides looked around quickly to find Virgil coming over to investigate what they were doing, “And you’re both big fucking dweebs.”

Patton lightly smacked Virgil’s shoulder with his spoon in reprimand for his language, but he allowed for the anxious side to snatch a dough ball from the tray and pop it into his mouth whole.

“Oh,” Logan grunted in disgust, “Virgil, that’s not very healthy.”

“Your mom’s not very healthy,” Virgil retorted through the cookie, smirking.

“That response still does not make sense! None of us  _ have  _ mothers!” Logan hissed, at his wits end much faster than he had anticipated. 

“Cut it out, Virgil, you know how much he hates it when you say that,” Patton chided, waving a dough covered spoon at the anxious side. 

Virgil was about to say something snide when he took a sharp intake of breath. The other two also tensed, Logan coughing slightly and Patton hiccuping as they all felt a very distinct increase in Roman’s heart beat, and an overall feeling of apprehension sweep through them.

Logan shuddered. “Well, that was unpleasant,” he remarked, the first to shake away the feeling. 

“Ohhh, I hope he’s alright!” Patton whispered, pressing his hands to his mouth and shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. 

They both looked at Virgil, who was staring blankly at the stove and rubbing his fingers together as if he had been outside on a cold day without mittens. His breathing was becoming shallow. 

“Hey, Verge?” Patton whispered, “You alright?”


	5. Apprehension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roman finds himself on the brink of battle. In his final moments of peace, he writes a letter to Virgil.

While the others had been catching up on _Stranger Things_ , Roman and Maximus had continued their trek deep into the volcanic land of the Dragon Witch. Roman watched as the dark bank of billowing clouds grew closer and closer. They towered above him as the sun began to sink in the sky.

Roman felt his stomach rumbling; he had not stopped to eat lunch. Glancing at the watch Logan had presented him, he saw that it was quarter to four o’clock. It vibrated just as he glanced at it (it did this at every quarter and half hour), as if it was confirming that he needed to stop and rest.

He pulled up on Maximus’s reigns, loosening his grip around the horse’s torso and saying “Woah!”. The horse slowed to a trot, puffing heavily through his nose.

A five minute’s trot brought them to the sandy banks of a wide river. Roman hopped down, whispered encouraging words and compliments to Maximus, and quickly set up the picket line. Maximus immediately bent down for a drink, sucking in great mouthfuls of cool water.

Roman knelt down beside him, his elbow resting on the knee that was not on the ground. He peered out across the water; it rushed and rolled, much more powerful than he remembered the last time he had entered this territory. He stood up, and looked out upon the tall grasses that swished and swayed in the strong wind; they looked damp. It must have just rained.

While Maximus took a gentle horse power nap, Roman scouted up and down the bank, cautiously looking around. He was now reaching unfamiliar territory. Once he crossed the river, the going was going to get a little fuzzy. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts so that he may focus on finding a suitable area to cross. He nibbled on his sandwich as he scouted, looking for an area where the river was thin, or places where he could see the outline of the bottom. He could potentially conjure up a sandbar, but conjuring took up precious energy in this sector of his kingdom. He needed all the energy he could for his impending battle with the Dragon Witch.

Eventually, Roman found a place about half a mile upstream where the river seemed to be shallow; there was a small sandbar in the middle of the river that he and Maximus could regain their balance on if need be. Satisfied that this was the best place, Roman returned to find Maximus awake once more. The horse nickered in greeting, his hooves pawing the ground in anticipation.

“Alright, Max,” Roman said, patting the horse’s sleek flank as he reached down for the saddlebag, “Ready to cross?”

The horse gave a small whinny, tossing his head in an excited gesture. Roman grinned.

Within minutes, he was back on Maximus and trotting at a swift pace upriver. They soon arrived back to the optimal place, and Roman quickly dismounted. Taking care to ensure that all of his belongings were securely fastened and that the books were securely sealed in the zip bag the cookies had come in, he took hold of Maximus’s reins and gently began to lead him into the water. It never felt right to ride the horse through water any higher than the horse’s shin, so he always guided the horse through any deeper bodies of water.

“Good boy, Max,” Roman said reassuring, walking beside the horse and deeper into the river. The current, not nearly as strong as it appeared, merely tugged slightly at his loose pants. The cloudy water, slightly gray with ash and smoke, rose higher and higher, until it was up to his waist. Maximus blustered through his nose as the chilly water touched his sensitive belly.

They mounted the sandbar, dripping and shivering slightly. Roman gazed at the water in front of him, his insides recoiling at the sight; the river was the border between his territory and the Dragon Witch’s, and it showed. The water on this side of the sandbar was an inky black, sprinkled with gray specks of fresh ashes. Undercurrents swirled and flipped so that they looked suspiciously like scaly beasts. Roman gulped, and turned to reassure Maximus. The horse was a dark grey up to his stomach, his normally pure white coat stained with ash.

As they moved deeper into the water and closer into the Dragon Witch’s territory, Roman could feel the fear beginning to simmer in his stomach. He never admitted to any of the sides that whenever he crossed the river, he always felt a drop of fear. For as he crossed the river, the soaring crags of rock, lava, and ash that marked the Dragon Witch’s kingdom always swayed suddenly into terrifying view, just as he always felt like the current was going to sweep him away.

The water rose higher and higher, up to his chest, under his arms, and over his collarbones. He gasped as the chill of the water slipped around his neck, and his feet lifted off the ground. With barely a second thought, he began to powerfully stroke in the water so as to not be swept away by the current. Maximus whinnied, and Roman could feel the water churn as the horse began to swim quickly to the other side. Confident in Maximus’s abilities, Roman released the horse’s reins and quickly swam until the sand of the bank was firmly under his feet once more.

Scrabbling onto the shore in an ungrateful fashion, Roman knelt on the ashy gravel, panting as he regained his breath and tried to shake away the fingerlike ghosts of the current on his body. Dripping and shivering, he barely noticed as Maximus mounted the bank and shook himself of excess water. He was too busy staring upwards, his mouth agape as he surveyed the sight before him.

In the not so distant distance, the castle of the Dragon Witch loomed. It was a crude imitation of Roman’s own castle, though it was several times larger and carved of deep red stone that seeped steaming lava and blustered ash. Deep, billowing clouds of smoke rose into the atmosphere, showering the ground with flakes of ash and debris like a grotesque snowstorm. When Roman stood, his feet stirred up clouds of dust.

It was always a little intimidating, and Roman hated to admit it. But the real fear didn’t settle in until he realized that this time, he had to be careful. There could be no brash rushing into things this time. This time, he had more than himself to worry about.

This time, he had someone at home. Of course, he always had people waiting for him; Logan, Patton, Virgil, Thomas. But this was the first time he had entered this dangerous land with someone he was more than willing to die for waiting for him.

Someone whose heart would utterly break if he were to die.

Roman momentarily staggered as a torrent of... _anxious_ thoughts passed through his mind. All he could picture in his mind’s eye was Virgil, being engulfed in choking smoke and ash. Alone. Terribly alone. Deep apprehension seethed through him as he looked upon the dismal might of the Dragon Witch’s land

But what made him shudder the most was the faint rumbling that made the ground beneath his feet quiver.

It was the snoring of the Dragon Witch. And she was soon to rise.

He didn’t realize how much he was shaking until he not only felt Maximus nudging him comfortably in the shoulder, but a deep, powerful warmth developing in his ribs. He clutched his chest, tearing his eyes away from the grim territory around him to focus on what he was feeling.

He listened hard, and he could suddenly distinctly hear... _three_ heartbeats. He felt a shaky smile growing on his face. Each side had a distinct heartbeat. Virgil’s was always fast. Logan’s was powerful and somehow possessed a sort of majesty. However, none of their heartbeats was as powerful as Patton’s. It never faltered, and was always reassuring. All three of them were sending their most reassuring thoughts and feelings to him at the exact same, well timed moment.

“...Thank you…” Roman whispered, aware that the others couldn’t hear him, but still overwhelmingly grateful. With their thoughts and reassurance in his mind, Roman shook his head and stood straighter. He stared into the climate before him, and felt his bravery returning. Patting Maximus on the nose, and checking that the horse was alright, he geared up and mounted him once more. Boldly tugging the reins, he squeezed his heels into Maximus’s side, setting the horse into a bold gallop. They bounded deeper into the heart of the fiery land, the last rays of light in the east completely vanishing as they were completely enveloped in the thick veil of smoke.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, it was hard to tell whether or not night had fallen on the volcanic kingdom of the Dragon Witch. There certainly was no sun; the cloud cover was impenetrable. The only sources of light were the occasional lakes of lava that glowed like forest fires in the distance and were blindingly bright when Roman and Maximus pelted by. Only when he stopped to wrap cloth masks around his and Maximus’s mouths so that they might be able to breathe through the smoke and ash was Roman able to scrub the watch’s face clean of the opaque layer of ash that had accumulated on it; it was seven o’clock. The Dragon Witch was due to rise in five hours. Squinting westward, he judged that he was only fifty or sixty miles away from the igneous castle rising before him. Despite the distance, the breeze was now becoming a strong wind.

“Only a little longer, Maximus,” Roman said to the horse, though he was comforting himself as well. Though they were both used to the conditions of the land of the Dragon Witch, something seemed...different, somehow. The smoke felt thicker. The sky seemed impenetrable. The rocks felt hotter. The air felt drier.

Roman fiddled with his new bracelet. It was completely awash with cinders, the colors beneath choked and faded.

 

* * *

 

 

Roman arrived just outside the Dragon Witch’s lair with two hours to spare. Really, Logan would be proud of his timeliness.

He quietly dismounted Maximus, carefully leading the horse into the shadows of the nearest spire. The both of them, normally sparkling white, now blended well with the shadows as they were both a cindery gray.

Roman peered uneasily about. He knew this place well, but every time he came, it seemed as if he were seeing it for the first time. The Dragon Witch’s castle was constructed of blood red sandstone that seemed to almost glow with the volcanic heat from within. Random outcrops of stones spiked out of the ground like teeth. Cracks in the castle walls that looked suspiciously like the raking claws of a dragon poured out magma like a flesh wound leaked blood. Not a drop of water was in sight.

The castle itself looked like the hastily constructed masterpiece of a novice architect. The powerful spires, turrets, and towers were carved at sharp angles and keen jutting edges. They soared so high that Roman had to tilt his neck all the way back to see them; even then, they disappeared into the thick veil of smoke that choked the sky. These spires grew like cysts out of a main wall of stone; this craggy face had a huge hole in it. This was the entrance to the Dragon Witch’s lair. It was roughly two stories high, and it glimmered with a faint purple light. This was the force field preventing any entry while the Dragon Witch slept.

Roman breathed deeply behind his mask. He coughed as the scents reached his nose; the smell of burning and the overwhelming stench of rotting flesh. The scent was so strong that his eyes began to water. He turned back to Maximus, rubbing his eyes and coughing.

“I hope this is the last time we have to come here,” he muttered to the horse. He whickered back in agreement.

Taking shelter in one of the many small caves that scattered the rocky countryside, Roman hastily ate a dinner of one of the many sandwiches still left in Maximus’s saddle bag (Patton really had gone overboard this time, but he sensed Logan’s influence by the way most of the sandwiches had liberal amounts or Crofter’s jam on them, even one that had turkey and mayonnaise. Roman was disgusted). He also surprised Maximus by conjuring up some more apples for the horse to eat along with the hot oatmeal mush he made from the supplies in Maximus’s other saddle bag.

With every mouthful they took, their teeth ground down on gravelly ash.

He glanced at his watch, watching as the time it drained down, closer and closer to the hour in which he would face his mortal nemesis hopefully one last time.

After eating, Roman had nothing to do but digest, sharpen his sword, and wait, the thunderous snores of the dragon witch echoing in his ears and rumbling all around him. He leaned against the wall, focusing on deep breaths, ignoring the restless pawing and nickering of Maximus, who kept nudging him and making curious noises.

“It’s alright, Maximus…” Roman muttered distractedly.

He blinked open his eyes when the horse made a curious, nasally noise, almost like a snore.

And it was then that Roman realized that the thunderous snoring emanating from deep inside the cavelike castle had ceased.  

“Oh, good golly,” Roman said, scrambling to his feet, “She’s waking!”

Roman quickly opened the saddle bag, and withdrew the note Virgil had written to him. He quickly flipped it over, and, conjuring a pen, carefully scrawled out a note of his own.

 

_My dearest Virgil,_

_If you are reading this, then you were right again, my love. This journey was, in fact, a very bad idea. But do not blame yourself for whatever condition you find me in; it was my own damn fault for not listening to you and not staying behind. If you blame yourself I’m going to come back and haunt your sorry ass. I promise that with the utmost of love and affection._

_I know we weren’t together for very long, and if I am to die tonight, my biggest regret is going to be that we didn’t get to live out our ‘happily ever after’. You deserve the world, and I wasn’t quick enough in giving it to you. Just please...understand that loving you has brought endless delight to my life. You’ve taught me more about what it is to be a friend and a lover than anyone else. I know that I have hurt you in the past, and I am still so incredibly sorry for that. I know you’ve told me a thousand times that you forgive me, but...I have a difficult time forgiving myself._

_Please, my love, remember that it is OK to grieve if you choose to do so. Go to Patton and Logan for help if you do; I am certain that those nerds will become your rocks if I do not make it to the end of this journey. Tell them that I am sorry, and that I love them dearly. Just don’t bottle yourself up. Take care of yourself, for me and for you, alright? I’m so sorry for any pain that I may cause you._

_You were my first love, Virgil, and you will forever be my only love._

_To the very sweetest of times,_

_-Ro_

 

He sighed, for once in his life hoping that his words did not sound too cliche, and detached one of the golden embellishments from the wrist of his uniform, tying it around the scroll. He feared his hopes were in vain.

He gestured to Maximus with the note. “If I am to die tonight, Maximus, or else be gravely injured, I want to you run straight home. Keep going, don’t let the Witch catch you! Deliver this note to Virgil. Let him know that...that I’m sorry.”

The horse flattened his ears, his tail drooping. He nuzzled against the Prince, blustered through his lips in a reassuring fashion as the creative side carefully tucked the note deep into the saddlebag inside the waterproof bag alongside the books.

There was a deep rumble, a growl that shook the very earth beneath their feet.

The Dragon Witch was awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, nerds! Chapter Five has arrived (have I waited for four chapters in order for this to rhyme? Yes, yes I have)! I hope you liked that letter. I've never written a love letter of any kind, so needless to say it was an interesting exercise. I am aware it is cliche af. I figured it would fit in with Roman's personality.  
> I AM SO EXCITED FOR NEXT CHAPTER YOU GUYS, YOU'RE NOT READY, I'M NOT READY, NO ONE'S READY AAHHHHH  
> Anyway, thanks for sticking around, folks! Y'all are great.


	6. Witching Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a slightly biased game of Apples to Apples and Roman has to make the hardest decision of his life.

Back at the mind palace commons, Logan and Patton were having a tough time keeping Virgil distracted.

Logan had realized that they had made a large error in keeping Virgil distracted earlier that day, because they had been interacting with him quite literally the entire day. Bolstered by his recent studies of psychology, Logan knew the characteristics of an introvert. He knew, based upon previous observation, that Virgil was indeed an introvert, however he was slightly more extroverted than most; he could withstand periods of social interaction, but he always, _always_ needed time alone. As they had been keeping Virgil company all day in some form, be that talking to him or being in the vicinity of him, he had not been able to have any of his alone time. As he was most likely to take his leave in the hours where he most needed to be distracted, that is, the hours in which Roman was to fight the Dragon Witch, he could be a danger to both Thomas and himself if left to his own devices.

They were currently playing a game of Apples to Apples, a board game that was at a level that would not upset or horrify Patton. Logan was judge, and he was taking entirely too long as he was busy observing Virgil’s actions. The anxious side was continuously either glancing at the clock or the hallway to his room. The shadows beneath his eyes were darkening with every minute the clock got closer to striking twelve.

“Logan, haven’t you come to a decision yet?” Patton urged.

Logan looked instead at Patton. The moral side had decided to brave the dark hours for Virgil. Normally, he was out like a light no later than ten o’clock. He had somehow convinced Logan to give him some coffee to help him stay awake. Logan had completely underestimated the moral side’s caffeine sensitivity; Patton was now wired. Logan sensed the metaphorical recipe for disaster.

“Uhm...I pick ‘llamas’ as the most ‘unpredictable’ of these cards,” Logan said, waving the green card that read ‘unpredictable’ around. His decision was met with instant protest from Virgil and cheers from Patton.

“How the fuck are llamas more unpredictable than the government?!” Virgil hissed, glaring at Logan as he snatched his card that read ‘The Government’ and vehemently tossing it onto the discard pile.

“Llamas have finicky temperaments and are likely to spit at an aggressor with little warning whereas the government must abide by certain protocols and criteria,” Logan explained simply.

Virgil folded his arms. “Have you examined our government recently?”

Before Logan could formulate a response, the clock on top of the mantle rang twelve times. A thin silence fell over the family room.

“...It’s witching hour,” Patton whispered.

Logan turned and glared at Patton, while flicking his eyes pointedly to Virgil, whose face looked significantly paler.

“Well,” Virgil said flatly, rising, “I think I’m going to turn in.”

“What? We didn’t even finish!” Patton whined, waving the cards around.

Logan swallowed thickly, his thoughts racing. As Virgil argued with Patton (“It’s obvious Logan’s favoring you because you’re his _boyfriend_ , so why should I even bother to keep playing? Shit’s _rigged._ ” “That’s _not true!_ ”), Logan quickly tried to formulate his views on Virgil being left on his own while also trying to remember all that Patton had taught him about sensitivity.  

Logan cleared his throat quietly, a gesture that momentarily gained the other Sides’ attention. Leaping upon this opportunity before they started arguing again, Logan said in a gentle murmur “...Virgil, I don’t believe it would be wise for you to be on your own right now.”

Virgil paused, and turn slowly to glower at Logan. His lip curled. “Why?”

Logan took a deep breath through his nose. “Because I believe that, if left to your own thoughts and worries, you will perhaps indulge in activities that could prove to be detrimental to the health of Thomas and or yourself.”

Logan felt a twinge of pride in his chest when Virgil’s brows seemed to loosen and what he deemed to be a thoughtful expression appeared on the anxious side’s face.

The logical side’s pride was quickly dashed when Virgil’s expression twisted. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could even draw breath, the anxious side completely disappeared before their very eyes, as if snatched away by some unseen force. A faint gust of wind scattered the cards, and a distinct scent of burning and smoke pervaded the living room.

“...Is something burning?” Logan asked.

 

* * *

 

Maximus was hiding well out of sight from the mock courtyard just before the lair of the Dragon Witch, where Roman was standing straight and tall, his sword held at the ready. The Prince glanced at his watch; it read twelve o’clock midnight. With a set jaw, the Prince stared straight ahead, adrenaline already starting to pump through his system. His purple hair blew about in the strong breeze, and the ground beneath him shook with the movements of the waking Dragon Witch.

The purple barricade flickered.

Roman tightened the purple fabric on his wrist.

The wind suddenly ceased to blow, as if the world was holding its breath.

In the shadows beyond the purple barricade, a single, yellow eye opened. With one last flicker and a noise like bones breaking, the barricade completely vanished, and a sharp toothed grin like that of the Cheshire cat pierced the shadows of the lair.

“Fine evening, isn’t it!” Roman called, his voice echoing in the now heavy silence of the canyon-like courtyard.

A great, hissing laugh bounced around the air. The hairs on the back of Roman’s hands and his neck instantly stood on end. He stared with wide eyes as the Dragon Witch slithered out of her lair. She emerged in her full height, looming twenty feet tall. She appeared taller due to the crown of horns on her head that braided and twined together to appear like the traditional hat of a witch. Her iridescent purple scales seemed to glow a deep red in the glowing light of the magma on all sides. Her right eye stared piercingly down at the minuscule figure before her. The left was horribly disfigured; Roman’s sword had a magic of its own in that the wounds it inflicted were incurable. Her eye was a raw red socket that still oozed a vile, yellow pus.  

“You’ve come to try and stop me again, have you?” she whispered, her silvery voice unpleasantly curling up and down Roman’s spine.

“This time I will not fail, Dragon Witch!” he called, trying his damndest to keep his voice from shaking.

The dragon spread her huge, scaly wings. The thin membranes snapped as she spread the wings as far as they could go. Her whole castle was blocked from Roman’s view. She tilted her head so she could view him with her good eye.

“What has changed this time, meagre mortal?” she asked, fully emerging from her lair and bringing her head closer to Roman. The ground quaked beneath them with every step she took. Roman’s purple hair lifted straight up as if someone was holding a vacuum above his head as she sniffed deeply. “I see you have changed your appearance. But why would that be?”

Roman blinked, unable to tear his gaze away from the enormous, glowing eye staring right through him. He got the unnerving feeling that she was... _reading_ him.

“And what is this?” the Witch gasped, her tail moving at lightning speed to seize Roman’s arm. He cried out as he was pulled closer to the Witch, his sword falling from his grasp. He saw what her eye was eagerly surveying: Virgil’s gift. The purple plaid bracelet was illuminated in the yellow glow of the witch’s serpentine eye.

“It is a gift,” Roman declared, “from a friend.”

The slitted pupil looked from the bracelet to Roman for a split second before the eye closed as the Dragon Witch howled with laughter. She threw Roman onto the ground, her great peal of laughter causing rocks to crumble and tumble from her castle. Roman let out a grunt as he hit the ground, and he lay winded for a moment before scrambling to regain his sword.

“Prince Roman, you preen yourself. You change your appearance, and you wear a token from a ‘friend’,” The Dragon Witch hissed, her mouth curling to form a cruel smile. Her glittering eye shifting across his form from head to toe.

“I read you like a book,” she hissed. “I can hear your thoughts, see your heart. If I didn’t know any better, the only reason why you would try to make yourself appear more attractive is because this…’ _friend’_ is something much more to you, aren’t they? That’s why they gave you this favour. A lady’s favour for her knight in shining armor. How classic!”

A wicked grin slashed across her mouth like a gash. “Though I sense that this lady is actually another man, isn’t he?”

Roman’s blood ran cold. She knew about Virgil.

The Witch crouched down, her claws folding together like a classic supervillain. She quietly observed the prince's pupil dilation and the way his breath hitched when she made her prediction. Humans were so easy to read. Her gaze bored into Roman’s.

“You make this battle much easier for me, Prince Roman,” she whispered, “So much so that I don’t even have to lift a claw to win.”

Roman’s jaw set. “You speak with arrogance, Dragon Witch,” he said in a warning tone, “That will get you killed. There is nothing you can do that will stop me from defeating you.”

The Witch snorted, and the great puff of breath from her nostrils set Roman staggering. Unwelcome thoughts crossed his mind; if her breath could almost knock him down, how on earth could he kill her? And what did she mean that she could win the battle without lifting a claw?

A sudden howling gale seem to surge into the canyon from the very earth. Roman’s breath was sucked out of his chest, and his eyes were blinded when a searing flash of purple light shot out from between the Dragon Witch’s claws. She bared her teeth in a cruel grin, and unlinked her claws.

“Is there really nothing?”

Roman squinted through the imprint of the flash that seemed to be glued to his eyelids. Blinking, his eyes focused on a vaguely humanoid shape that had appeared between the Dragon Witch’s claws. He gasped, gripping his sword for support, his vision tunneling.

There, in between the Dragon Witch’s open claws, slumped a figure tied to a chair. Its head was down, and its fists were straining against the bonds, as if it was trying to clutch its head. Its face was hidden by long bangs.

The figure was clad in a dark hoodie, a garment seemingly too voluminous for his thin frame.

“ _Virgil!_ ” Roman heard himself scream, but it sounded distant, like he was speaking through a tube.

The Dragon Witch growled with approval as she watched Roman scurry forward, dropping his sword as he fell to his knees in front of the slumped figure’s chair. The Prince pawed at the figure’s chest desperately, clutching at the jacket like a lost child.

“Virgil, Virgil _no,_ can you hear me, love?” Roman moaned, shaking the anxious side’s shoulders. Roman’s heart pounded with terror when he heard that Virgil’s breath was shallow and stuttery.

Virgil snapped his head up so suddenly that Roman could hear it popping. For once, it was Roman’s turn to be uncomfortable as Virgil locked eyes with him. The anxious side let out a thin moan, muffled by the tight gag tied between his teeth. His chest heaved against the suffocating ropes bound around his torso and his hips. His arms and legs were tied down; the only unrestrained part of him was his head. His eyes were red from crying, and salty tear tracks tore through his dark eye shadow.

“It appears my hypothesis was right,” the Dragon Witch chuckled evilly, “Prince Roman, falling in love! I must say, I am shocked; I thought that if you were to fall for any of your pathetic little friends it would at least be the smart one..though, even _he_ isn’t very bright. However, I quickly ruled that one out because I figured he would have rubbed off on you, but you seem to be the same clueless _moron_ that you’ve always been.”

Roman clenched his jaw, shaking his head from side to side as if to dislodge the Witch’s words from his consciousness.

“And I know that you consider the annoying one to be the closest thing you will ever have to a father, so I deemed that to be inappropriate. So, I arrived to the conclusion that the only one left was this...this _waif!”_

She smothered her mouth with a claw, clearly unable to contain her glee.

 _“_ I don’t _care_ how you arrived to your conclusion, you vile beast! _Let him go!_ ” Roman roared, slamming his fist onto the ground. His voice echoed feebly in the vast courtyard, and the Dragon Witch burst out into fits of derisive laughter that shook the very air as he gingerly shook his fist.

Roman felt animalistic rage boiling deep in his gut. How _dare_ she call Virgil a waif! He gripped Virgil’s hoodie, trying to suppress a growl that was bubbling deep in his throat. The anxious side whimpered thinly, and Roman instantly released his grip. He cupped Virgil’s face and looked deeply into his scared eyes, but not for too long, for Roman was well aware of Virgil’s inability to make direct eye contact for very long without inevitably growing nervous.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he whispered.  

The Dragon Witch guffawed again, and the wind howled around them.

Virgil slowly shook his head.

“You can _try,_ but you’ll find that those bonds are magical. I conjured them myself,” the Dragon Witch crooned mockingly, “There is no way he can be released.”

She snorted with disdain as Roman shook his hands. The bonds had burned his skin as he tried to untie Virgil as she spoke.

“You and I both know that you can’t kill me, Roman,” the Dragon Witch said. As she spoke, her wings were encompassing the two sides, preventing any escape without the Prince even realizing. Her hypnotic eyes were boring into Roman’s skull. “You’ve tried so many times to kill me, and every time you’ve failed. I hate to sound cliche, but I know it gives you a kick, so I ask you Roman: aren’t you just _nothing_ without me?”

Roman snapped his gaze upwards. “What do you mean ‘I’m nothing without you’?”

The Dragon Witch lowered her head until her eye was level with Roman’s. “You can’t kill me. How can you? You can’t even protect your little _boyfriend._ ”

Roman looked at Virgil, whose eyes were boring into his. They glistened with tears.

“You can’t kill me, Roman, and you know it. And because of this, there’s no way of validating your worth to any of your little friends. _That’s_ why you are nothing without me. Nothing but a hollow Prince unworthy of his title.”

She bared her teeth over Virgil’s hair, and hissed a laugh. The anxious side quivered, moaning in sheer terror, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Roman’s heart broke. Virgil was usually so brave in his own way, but here he was engulfed in the throes of undoubtedly the worst panic attack of his life.

“Without me, you have no way of validating yourself.”she snarled.

Roman felt deep horror develop in his chest as he met the Dragon Witch’s gaze. Images began to form unannounced in his mind's eye, completely out of his control. Logan, Patton, and Virgil were all surrounding him, disgust in their eyes. They seemed to tower over him, the dark shadows floating around them accentuating their jaws and teeth, making them appear vaguely draconian.

“ _You claim to be such a powerful prince, Roman. But you can’t do anything right!”_ Logan was saying. His black eyes glittered venomously behind his glasses.

“ _All of your ideas for videos are...are_ terrible _now! No one likes us anymore!_ ” Patton hissed, his lip curling in revulsion.

 _“No one likes you anymore, Princey. None of_ us _like you anymore. You’re_ worthless.” Virgil snarled, his eyes cold and empty, the cords in his wrists and hands tightening as they clenched into fists.

“You will be nothing,” The Dragon Witch snarled, shattering his thoughts, “How can you ever prove that you have worth if you don’t have anything to prove it with? They all know you have nothing. They all know you’re worthless. And so you constantly come here in an attempt to kill me so you can come home and show them your battle scars. But if you can’t kill me, they will no longer be impressed. They will only be convinced of their notions that you are _worthless._ ”

Her ghastly breath blew over him as her gaze seared into his skull. “And that’s not a notion. That’s truth.”

Roman sank again to his knees, his legs shuddering like rubber. His head was spinning, the Dragon Witch’s eyes still burning in his mind. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He reached out for Virgil again. He buried his face into the voluminous hoodie. It was all too much. Too loud. Too fast. _Too true!_  He wanted to go home. He wanted to hide, hide from the truth behind the serpent’s word. He was utterly worthless, a hollow facade that hid nothing worth loving. She was right. _She was right._

“But despite all that, I am going to release your little boyfriend,” the Dragon Witch purred.

Roman opened his eyes and gasped. “You _are?!_ ” he gasped, his voice shaky with sheer disbelief.

“On one condition.”

“Of course,” Roman grumbled, looking at the fistfuls of fabric between his fingers. The purple of Virgil’s favour on his wrist was in stark contrast to the solid black of his hoodie.

Roman blinked. His hoodie was solid black? Where was the purple plaid?

“Yes, on one condition,” The Dragon Witch purred, watching with pure glee as Roman clung to his lover’s prone form for support, “You must die.”

“ _What?!”_ Roman yelped, looking up in sheer horror.

“I thought it was only fitting, you dying for the safety of your lover,” the Dragon Witch responded, looking at her claws like any manicurist would, “It is only noble, isn’t it? Unless you want me to entertain the other option, which is to kill you both and I go on a rampage across the land, claiming this kingdom as my own, but I imagine you wouldn’t like that option.”

“What’s stopping you from rampaging across the land in the first option?” Roman snarled.

The Witch laughed. “Nothing. However, I solemnly swear that if you are to pick the first option that your little boyfriend will be well looked after.”

The Witch snickered, her tongue flicking out and slithering possessively around Virgil’s shoulders. The anxious side groaned, and sobbed from behind his gag. His panicked vocalization throbbed with the demonic echo of a panic attack. “He would make a swell slave.” the Witch purred.

“So...let me get this straight,” Roman said, his hands first smacking the Dragon Witch’s tongue away and then roaming over the entirety of Virgil’s hoodie, “Well, as straight I can get anything. I’m not straight, after all,” (At this, the Dragon Witch groaned,) “The only way you’re going to release him is if you kill me?”

“Yes.”

Roman thought quickly. There had to be another way. He had to make a deal that the Dragon Witch couldn’t refuse. The preferable option was that he and Virgil both made it out of this alive. The predictable option was that he free Virgil and die courageously in the process. But then, there was no way of ensuring that the Dragon Witch didn’t hunt Virgil down and kill him and the others at a later date! There was no way out, no clean way out, no moral way out.

As his watch buzzed, reminding him that it was quarter after midnight, he thought of Logan, the one who had given him the watch in the first place. He thought of Patton, and Patton’s food. He pictured the comfortable, warm mind palace commons. He thought of his bed, and he wanted to go _home_.

“...What if...What if I want to live?”

The Dragon Witch blinked. She looked down, and saw that Roman was completely avoiding his boyfriend’s gaze. He was shaking from head to foot.

“I-I need to live,” Roman pleaded, clasping his hands together in a begging gesture, “Please...Spare my life, mighty Dragon Witch. D-Do whatever you want to him. Just...Just let me live.”

The Dragon Witch’s jaw fell, her good eye widening in pure shock. There was a tense silence as she collected her bearings.

“You would have your lover die so that you may live?” she gasped in utter amazement.

Roman paused. “Well, when you put it that way it sounds pretty bad, but yes.”

“B-But,” the Dragon Witch spluttered, “ I will _kill him_. _Eat him_ , in fact! And you can try to fight me, but you will _lose._ You will leave this place, mortally wounded as you always do. I will conquer everything in this land, and I’ll kill all of your other little friends too!”

A thin hush.

“...But I will live.” Roman whispered.

“You will. I promise,” the Dragon Witch said, sensing a better deal than she could have ever imagined developing. How about this! The Prince was willing to give up his friends, his kingdom, his _lover_ so that he may live! What a cowardly turn of events! She could become the ruler of this entire world, completely uninhibited! And she would eventually kill him, too, despite her promises.

She peered down at the broken man before her. His shoulders were slumped, and his hands were gripping at his hair. He could not look at the figure tied to the chair before him. She could almost hear him grappling with his morals and his survival instinct. It was delightful.

There was a thick silence.

“...Let me live, Dragon Witch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about them apples to apples??? (Did i just make a pun referencing the board game they were playing yES)  
> This was by far my favorite chapter to write because of the anGST I am full of glee I regret nothing. Leave a kudos and a comment if you're now as dead as I am!!! But THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE YOU ARE THE REAL CHAMPS HERE BLESS  
> Chapter Seven will be posted on Sunday :3


	7. Cowardice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a baking disaster and Roman must face the consequences of his choices.

“Well it’s a good thing we got those cookies out of the oven, Patton. Thank goodness we smelled that smoke and we were able to get them out before they caught fire.” Logan said, coughing as he stood on a chair and smacking the smoke alarm in the kitchen in order to silence it.

Patton was coughing through the thick smoke that was pouring out of the oven as well, his hands encompassed in oven mitts as he fished out the tray of burnt chocolate chip cookies. He had put in the last of the day’s many batches of cookies in the oven before they had started the game of Apples to Apples. He peered at the timer on the stove. It read 12:05 PM. He had never set the timer!

“Oh, Logan! This is all my fault. I never set the timer, so we completely forgot about them,” Patton cried, spluttering through the billowing banks of clouds that rose to the ceiling of the mind palace.

“No worries,” Logan said, hopping down from the chair once he had disabled the alarm, “Nothing life threatening occurred, so it is not a big deal.”

The logical side pushed the chair back into the table as Patton sprayed the tray with water. Steam hissed. Logan walked over and suppressed a snicker as he saw the completely charred cookies adhered to the tray.

“I’m sorry,” Patton said quietly, his voice guilty.

Logan blinked. Patton was actually feeling guilty! Over a silly mistake! He was about to explain to the moral side why he was wrong to feel that way, but something stopped him. He remembered that Patton was not always assured by logical explanation, but that he sometimes needed physical reassurance.

“There is no need to be sorry,” Logan said, wrapping his arms around Patton’s waist and gently tugging the moral side flush against his chest while nuzzling his nose into his hair, “Anyone could have made that mistake.”

Something was wrong; Patton was tense under his arms, and out of the thirty two times Logan had held Patton in this matter, the moral side had only reacted negatively twice, and that was only because he had been tired or not in the mood for affection. He released Patton when he felt him squirm. The moral side turned to face him, his head bowed.

Logan gently tilted up Patton’s chin with his finger, and was distinctly alarmed when he saw his eyes were filled with tears. Logan knew that Patton was prone to being overly emotional about little things, but he had never cried over burnt cookies before. It was alarming.

But suddenly, it hit him.

“This is not about the cookies, is it?” Logan murmured gently, pulling the man into a tentative hug.

Patton whimpered, and buried his head into his boyfriend’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly around the middle. “No, Lo.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as he felt aching pity clench his heart. He rubbed comforting circles into Patton’s back.

“You’re worried about Roman?”

“...And Virgil.”

Logan sighed, and gathered Patton closer to him. “There, there…” he whispered, completely at a loss for kind words to say. His throat was swollen, and tears pricked at the back of his eyes. Patton in pain was one of the only occasions in which Logan felt the need to cry. It was in a way comforting; someone supposed to be an emotionless robot was not empathetic. He felt extremely conflicted, his heart in his throat as he tried to form words that would comfort the quaking man in his arms.

They jumped when the smoke alarm started to screech again, and again a moment later when they heard a door slam open.

“Don’t worry about  _Virgil_ , worry about yourselves!” a panicked voice said from behind them.

Logan and Patton looked up and hastily separated.

Through the smoke, they saw Virgil stumbling towards them, clad in his pajamas, his purple and black hoodie thrown hastily over his shoulders. He peered through the smoke, coughing until he found the other Sides.

“What, I go to bed and you two set the house on fire, if that’s even possible?!” he yelled.

“No, Virgil! We just burned some cookies,” Logan explained, one arm still rubbing reassuring circles on Patton’s back. The moral side was giggling at the sight of Virgil who was looking around in a disheveled state. He rubbed the tears from his eyes.

The anxious side came over and peered into the sink at the burned cookies as Logan pulled the chair out again and continued his assault on the alarm. “...So we’re not going to die?”

“I can say with complete assurance that we are not.” Logan grunted as he pulled out the alarm’s battery.

Virgil sighed with relief, and glanced at Patton with a sheepish smile. His face fell when he saw Patton discreetly wiping away tears.

“You alright, padre?” he asked, gently squeezing the moral side’s shoulder.

“Of course, kiddo! I’m fine.  _Really_ , Virgil,” Patton added hastily as Virgil skeptically arched an eyebrow, “I just got a little overwhelmed, you know how it is sometimes...Logan’s taking care of me.” he said, whispering the latter half of his sentence. Virgil nodded, correctly interpreting that to mean that Patton was going to vent to Logan once Virgil himself left.

“...Well, I’m going back to sleep,” he said, squeezing Patton’s shoulder one more time before releasing him, “I was just starting to have a lovely dream before that fucking smoke alarm went off...”

When the anxious side returned to his room, Logan turned back to Patton.

“There, you see? He’s as snarky as ever. He’s alive and well. You don’t have to worry about him.”

Patton wrung his hands, his eyes darting away from Logan. “But...I’m worried he’ll go after Roman or something...not good.” he whimpered fretfully.

Logan gently pulled Patton back into his arms as more tears threatened to spill out of the moral side’s eyes. He ran his fingers through the short hairs along Patton’s nape, and slowly began to oscillate from side to side.

“I highly doubt he will do that. Virgil is aware of his limits, and I believe that he is too frightened to go anywhere near the Dragon Witch’s territory, and he feels that way for good reason. He hasn’t left the commons at all; we’d feel that happening, remember? Listen, he is close.”

Patton and Logan were quiet as they listened for Virgil. Logan was right; Virgil’s heartbeat was very close, and had been the entire day, which was the truth as the anxious side was in his room and had not left the commons. They knew he was close because they didn’t have to listen very hard to hear his heartbeat. Patton could feel Virgil’s anxiety over Roman, and as the clock struck quarter after midnight, he could also feel his exhaustion. Virgil’s heart-rate was getting slower and slower, suggestive that he was falling asleep.  

“If he hasn’t gone already, then the chances of him leaving later decrease. He  _will_  be fine, and I am willing to bet that Roman is conquering the Dragon Witch as we speak.” he murmured, and Patton was finding it hard to tell whether the logical side was just saying these things to make him feel better.

But Logan was being genuine.

Patton gave a watery chuckle. “I guess I’m just a little stressed.”

“I agree, dear.”

* * *

 

Roman’s mind was working unusually fast. As his hands roamed Virgil’s hoodie, he took in all the details. Virgil was clothed in his  _old_  outfit: an over sized, completely black hoodie, a mere black T-shirt beneath, and ripped black skinny jeans. The fantastic patchwork hoodie he now sported was completely gone, the artfully torn purple shirt totally absent.

He looked up and saw that Virgil was still staring into his eyes.

That had been the first clue that something was off. Virgil could never look directly at him for longer than five seconds, even though Roman knew that the anxious side loved him very much. It was simply something Virgil could not do. But here, Virgil had been staring into his eyes for the entire confrontation.

The Virgil he knew and loved couldn’t do that.

“Is this truly what you wish, Prince Roman? You will allow me to kill him so that you may live?” The Dragon Witch asked.

Roman was shaking, even though he was merely acting. “I will do anything to live.” he responded. He spat out the words as if they were rotting in his mouth. He felt totally disgusted in saying them.  

The Dragon Witch’s eyes narrowed. Her face broke into a cruelly gleeful smile. She burst out into throes of evil laughter, her gravelly voice shaking the very earth. “Then stand aside!” she roared, great spouts of smoke and ash leaping out of the castle behind her, the magma oozing out of the walls like blood.

“Wait!” Roman shouted,  his hand held up, “Just...Just let me say goodbye to him.”

The Dragon Witch snorted impatiently, and slammed her claws into the ground. Roman’s knees buckled under the force. “Yes, yes! Hurry along with it! You mortals with your  _love_...Hmph!”

Roman fell to his knees once again, and cupped Virgil’s face with both of his hands. The anxious side was looking at him reproachfully, tears pouring out of his eyes. A plan was growing in Roman’s mind, along with a realization.

This was not Virgil.

Roman carded his hands through Virgil’s hair. His eyes glanced up and saw that Virgil’s hair was its old brown. Not purple! And the shadows beneath Virgil’s eyes looked to be made with Virgil’s old eye pencil, not his new powder. He ran his fingers along Virgil’s jaw, and could not feel the fresh scar from the confrontation with the goblin in his kingdom a few days earlier. No scar could ever disappear that fast.  Roman laughed aloud, but quickly made it sound like a sob. This Virgil was a fake, a mere hologram! An extraordinarily realistic hologram, but one nonetheless. The Dragon Witch must have conjured him based upon the picture she had built of him in her mind’s eye.

The last time she had seen Virgil was when all four of the Sides were venturing in Roman’s kingdom on a ‘family bonding event’ as Patton had called it. They were exploring, none of them expecting to be attacked. The Dragon Witch had swooped upon them, screeching. Roman had forced the others to sink away to safety.

That was when Roman had blinded her, and that was when she gave him his permanently disfiguring scars that ran like mountain ranges along his back.

She hadn’t seen Virgil since he had changed, so all she could do was conjure this incredibly life like dummy. Roman had been convinced at first, it was so realistic. But he wasn’t fooled for long.  

Roman tenderly kissed fake Virgil’s forehead. The skin beneath his lips felt so warm...so  _real_. Roman’s heart ached with that familiar love he always felt when he kissed Virgil. He shuddered; it was unnerving, how easily his heart and his mind could be manipulated. “I’ll see you soon, love.” he whispered.

He backed away, and turned his head aside. He couldn’t watch the Dragon Witch eat something that was meant to look like his boyfriend, even though he knew that Virgil was no doubt back in his room, sleeping peacefully.

...Wasn’t he?

The Dragon Witch lowered her head so that her jaws were just behind Virgil.

“Look at me, Prince!” she snarled.

Roman looked up, and he locked eyes not with the Dragon Witch, but with fake Virgil. The figure was completely white, and tears were pouring out of his eyes. Roman could hear his panicked moans, and the figure was shaking violently, trying desperately to dislodge his bonds. Roman squeezed his his eyes shut and covered his ears when he heard Virgil begin to scream his name in strident, frenzied tones. Something inside him twisted and broke, even though he knew that the figure was not his boyfriend.

Right?

Roman looked at the Dragon Witch, trembling uncontrollably.

“You, Prince Roman, are an utter coward.” she snarled.

She opened her jaws wide, rows of yellowing teeth glistening in the glow of the magma. Roman could smell her revolting breath. The rotting scent of her insides seared his nostrils.

He gripped his sword, and let out a harried sob.

_Snap!_

A high pitched scream.

Silence.

The Dragon Witch bit down, her eye closing in delight. She heard Roman’s feet shuffling; he was probably falling to the ground. He would never go home, she knew. He could never face his friends again. And he would never know that this was a ruse! The boyfriend was a fake! He-

A terrible war cry filled the air. The Dragon Witch opened her eye just in time to see Roman lunging forward, his eyes ablaze with rage as he brought his sword, point down, between her eyes.

A horrible sound of metal piercing through flesh and bone filled the entire courtyard.

Roman grinned as he stared into the frozen Dragon Witch’s eye; it had swiveled onto him, utterly horrified.

“You thought you could fool me?” he hissed, “I know my boyfriend when I touch him.”

The Dragon Witch let out an earth shattering roar. Her limbs convulsed wildly. Out of her jaws fell purple dust; the fake Virgil had disintegrated as her powers began to wane. The wind bellowed and raged, intermingling with the Witch’s reverberating roars.

Her muscles began to spasm uncontrollably as her nerves began to die. She groaned and thrashed wildly, gagging as blood from her wound seeped into her throat. Roman had impaled her directly into her powerful brain. There was no way she could survive. The Dragon Witch was dying.

Roman was about to strike a triumphant pose when one of the Dragon Witch’s flailing limbs snaked out chillingly close to him. With an ungraceful scurry, he ran out of harm’s way to watch the death throes of the Dragon Witch unfold.

Purple lightning was snaking over the serpent’s body; her powers made tangible. Rocks crumbled and fell all around her as she thrashed and slammed into her castle. Horrible cracking filled the air as the structural integrity of the castle’s spires was compromised. They began to sway several hundred feet in the air. Searing purple light shone like beams from between her scales, and her eyes and mouth filled with the chilling purple light. She was inflating like a balloon, her screeching becoming higher and higher in pitch.

Roman darted behind an outcrop of rock just as the Dragon Witch exploded in a blinding flash of purple light that was certain to be seen for miles. Roman clutched his ears and cried out in pain; the noise was deafening as the explosion echoed in his ears, and the sound of the castle collapsing filled his very being. Huge boulders were falling all around him, throwing up sprays of lava and dust. Scattered scales, chunks of horn, and teeth rained down all around him. He froze, too terrified to move.

Over the terrifying noise, he heard something familiar; the thundering of hooves!

Roman opened his eyes and peered beyond the outcrop of rocks. The castle was collapsing, spires of rocks falling from the sky. Deep, cold fear filled his chest, and he felt himself unable to breathe. But one thing caught his eye; Maximus charging towards him just ahead of the rock, a panicked whinny rolling from his lips.

Roman shouted, and waved his hands frantically. His voice was lost over the din, and his form was lost to the great swaths of dust and rocks being thrown up into the air. Miraculously, however, the horse saw him, and swerved his course. As Maximus careened by,  Roman jumped, and landed on his back in a less than graceful fashion. Holding tightly to the horse’s mane, he scrabbled wildly until he was relatively situated in the saddle. He seized the wildly flopping reins, and slapped them to urge Maximus on.

“Yah, Maximus!” he shouted, and dug his heels into the horse’s side.

Maximus galloped and galloped, not stopping until they were well out of harm’s way. They tore ahead of the disaster zone, rocks and dirt pelting down upon them. Roman could barely breathe. Maximus would not stop, not even when Roman pulled on the reins. It wasn’t until they reached a tiny stream did Maximus screech to a halt, nearly flinging Roman several feet. The horse had seen his shadow reflecting in the stream, and had reared up in panic.

“Maximus! Calm down!” Roman said, sliding off the horse with difficulty. The steed was bucking and whinnying with fright, his eyes rolling as he thrashed. Only until Roman began singing Flynn Rider’s part in ‘I See the Light’ did the stallion calm down enough for Roman to touch him.

“We’re safe, my valiant friend. She can’t hurt us anymore,” he whispered, stroking the horse’s forelock and maintaining gentle eye contact, “And you certainly got us out of harm’s way.”

The horse looked as though he was about to whicker pridefully, but his ears suddenly pinned back. He snapped his teeth sharply, and stamped his hooves in a threatening fashion.

“Woah! Woah, boy!” Roman said, stumbling backwards, his feet scrabbling in the stream. He raised his hands in defense, shaking, utterly shocked at Maximus’s behavior.

The horse puffed sharply through his nose, and looked pointedly at his wrist. Roman followed his gaze, and saw Virgil’s favour, thoroughly drowned in ash, but there nonetheless.

Roman understood immediately; Maximus thought that Virgil was dead. “Maximus, didn’t you see? That wasn’t Virgil.”

The horse tossed his mane and snapped his teeth again. His head snaked forward and waved from side to side, an extremely aggressive act for a horse normally so pacifistic.

“You don’t believe me?” Roman snapped, approaching Maximus again and placing his hand on the horse’s broad chest, “Listen. I don’t know if this will work, but listen.”

Horse and man went silent. Roman closed his eyes and focused hard, listening for Virgil’s heartbeat, praying.

A soft steady heartbeat, lessened by sleep, filled his ears. Just as it did so, Maximus’s ears pricked up.

“That’s his heartbeat, Max,” Roman whispered, relief and pure joy surging through him as he recognized Virgil’s heartbeat. He gazed in jubilation at Maximus, who huffed through his nose, relenting; Roman had tried to somehow convey what he was hearing to Maximus, and it appeared that it had worked.

“That’s him! That’s my boyfriend!” Roman shouted, turning to the east and letting out a whoop. He jumped up and down while screeching riotously, splashing water in every direction, He didn’t care in the slightest. Virgil’s heartbeat pounded in his mind. He was alive!

Maximus waited patiently for Roman to stop jumping around and screaming like a banshee. After all, the Prince still had a lot of adrenaline to blow off. However, the horse didn’t have to wait long.

A little while later, Roman trudged out of the the stream, dripping wet and tired, yet his eyes shining with joy. He went over to Maximus, and gently hugged his neck.

“Do you understand what happened, Max? You’re not mad?”

Roman took the time to explain anyway that he had to act like he was willing to let Virgil die so that he himself may live. He had to make the Dragon Witch a deal she could not refuse, and one involving her potentially ruling Thomas’s mind was one she could not put down. This would throw the Dragon Witch off guard, and allow Roman an opportunity to kill her. It was the only scenario in which Roman would live, and thus he would have a chance to kill the Dragon Witch, a feat he knew he could accomplish. Surely if he could blind the Dragon Witch, he could kill her as well?

Finally, Maximus blustered, and nudged Roman forgivingly.

Roman sighed, running an exhausted hand through his filthy hair. With a jolt, he remembered the letter he had written for Virgil. He quickly dug through the saddle bag until he found the letter, snug and sound in the waterproof bag along with the books.

Roman looked up at Maximus, his eyes wide and bright. “Looks like I won’t be needing this anymore, old friend.”

Roman gently tore the note in half once, and then again. He let the pieces fall into the stream. The pieces trickled away, potential thoughts and actions washed away into the night. Now, they could be replaced by potential words and action.

Roman smiled as he felt a great burden lift from his shoulders. “Let’s go home.” he whispered.

* * *

 

Going home was postponed until the next day.

Roman and Maximus were both exhausted, and, after going back to the rubble of the Dragon Witch’s castle to retrieve Roman’s sword (that had somehow survived both a magical explosion and an avalanche) and one of the Dragon Witch’s teeth as a trophy, they set up camp and quickly fell asleep.

As the sun rose in the east hours later, the first warm rays filtering onto Roman’s face, the Prince still did not wake. For the terrible wind that had plagued them on the journey had entirely ceased, as if the absence of the Dragon Witch finally allowed the world to breathe in peace.

It wasn't until Maximus stood to stretch and nose the saddle bags did Roman awaken. It took the creative side a few moments to really remember where he was. But when he realized that he could finally go home, that he could finally see Virgil again, he was in an absolute rush to gulp down breakfast and get going. He had the grace, however, to let Maximus digest before he mounted the horse one final time, and they galloped off into the sunrise.

Roman threw his hands into the air, squeezing his eyes shut and releasing a curious mixture of laughter and screams of joy. Sheer relief and a deep love of life was pulsing through his veins, making goosebumps erupt all over his arms. Despite the early hour, he was ecstatic at finally going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! So this is the second to last chapter of the whole fic. I cannot believe how fast this has gone by; it certainly didn't go this fast in writing it, I can assure you! But you guys are a loyal bunch for hanging around for so long. I love ya :3  
> Chapter Eight, the final chapter, is to be posted on Tuesday. I'll see you then.


	8. Home Is Where His Heartbeat Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a reunion and a story.

All three of the other sides rose early the next day, though the circumstances by which they arose were quite unusual for a household that was normally so quiet at eight in the morning. 

Logan was the first to actually open his eyes. It was a rather reluctant action because he was incredibly comfortable and couldn't remember a time when he felt so warm. His vision was blurry without his glasses, and he moved so as to reach them on the nightstand, but the heavy weight of Patton on his chest made him pause. Stretching his arm as far as he could without disturbing the sleeping Patton, he snagged his glasses with his fingertips, and put them on. 

He blinked, and looked down at his sleeping boyfriend beside him. His heart ached in what he now recognized to be unadulterated love, but also pity. After his small emotional outburst after burning the cookies, Patton had been unable to stop crying. He had to be led to bed, almost entirely inconsolable as he confessed to Logan all of his worries about Roman and Virgil, and how Thomas would be affected if the creative side were to die. Logan was relieved that Patton was learning to open up to him about his feelings, but he was still deeply concerned that Patton felt in that way. 

But he had managed to get Patton to sleep after the moral side had cried himself out and finally experienced his first post-caffeine crash. And now, the moral side was curled up against him, his fingers curling and uncurling every once in awhile on Logan’s chest like a cat. That aching feeling called love welled up in Logan’s chest, and he found a wide grin forming on his features. The feeling throbbed and pulsated any time Patton’s lips moved to form sleepy words in his dreams, or any time he let out small puffs of breath that warmed Logan’s bare chest. 

Logan sighed, closing his eyes as he buried his nose into Patton’s hair. He was just drifting off, Patton’s warm, sweet scent lulling him back to sleep when he heard what sounded like a body falling out of bed next door. 

He blinked awake, his brow furrowing. The only being next door was Virgil. Perhaps he was having a nightmare, and had-

_ BAM! _

Logan let out a shout of shock when the door to his bedroom was flung violently open, the door knob no doubt leaving a dent in the plaster. Patton jerked beside him, letting out a high gasp of shock, arm scrambling for his glasses. 

“ _ Guys,  _ wake the  _ fuck up! _ ” Virgil shouted from the doorway, looking obnoxiously excited for eight in the morning.

“Nikola Tesla!” Logan groaned, handing a groggy Patton his glasses and staring torpidly in Virgil’s direction, 

“What on earth is the matter, kiddo?” Patton asked, focusing blearily on the excited figure in the doorway with concern.

“Can’t you dopes feel it too? Roman’s alive!” Virgil said, standing in the middle of the room and uncharacteristically bouncing with vivacity. 

Logan and Patton listened hard. A feeling of deep exhilaration spread from their chests to the rest of their bodies. They could almost feel the adrenaline that was pumping through Roman’s body pumping through their own. Perhaps that was why Virgil was so excited; as the most connected to Roman, he felt the creative side’s emotions with trebled intensity. Regardless, all three sides heard a powerful heartbeat, and felt pure joy at being alive. 

“Oh, well thank  _ goodness! _ ” Patton sighed, his silly grin plastered on his face as he slumped against Logan in sheer relief.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment. “I must say, I am pleasantly surprised.”

There was a few moments of sweet silence as all three sides listened intently to Roman’s overwhelmingly happy aura, and sent forth their happiest, if not sleepiest thoughts, in his direction. 

“See, Verge?” Patton spoke up finally, his chin resting on Logan’s shoulder, “I told you Roman was going to be alright.”

Virgil shrugged, a sheepish smirk on his face as he rubbed his neck. “...I know...I know, you were right again...I just worry. I bet you’re totally surprised to hear that.”

Logan yawned. “Virgil, while I am very pleased to hear that Roman is alive and that you have had your mental burden lifted from you, I think I speak for Patton as well when I say we’ve all had a long night and would love to go back to sleep.”

Virgil blinked, and glanced at the clock on Logan and Patton’s nightstand. He was absolutely disgusted to see that it read eight in the morning.

“Alright, yeah, sorry...That motherfucker woke me up at  _ eight in the morning?!”  _ he grumbled to himself as he threw his casual salute to the other sides, quietly shutting the door behind him as he left. 

Logan sighed, closed his eyes, and immediately flopped back down. He put his hands behind his head and groaned. Normally, he was an early riser, but he now felt no motivation to do anything but sleep for at least another three hours. He felt Patton shifting next to him, and he squinted up to find the moral side’s face inches from his own. 

“What?” Logan whined, feeling very puerile for a moment as he bit his bottom lip in a pout. 

“You were wrong, Logan,” Patton crooned teasingly, using his thumb to pull Logan’s lip from his teeth, “You though that Roman was gonna die.”

“Hey,” Logan said, nibbling gently on Patton’s thumb and looking reproachfully into his eyes, “I can’t be right about everything, otherwise I’d really be a robot.”

Patton smiled, and leaned down to steal a kiss, moving his hand to cup Logan’s jaw. Logan closed his eyes, letting that aching love heat up his cheeks in a blush. 

“Oh my goodness,” Patton said as he eventually pulled away, his eyes gleaming, “You still blush everytime we kiss.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “It appears that I am unable to control it.”

Patton settled back down, taking off his glasses and handing them to Logan, who took off his own once again and placed them together on the night stand. He shifted until he was comfortable, Patton curling once again into his side. 

“...I’m glad everything is working out so good,” Patton sighed into Logan’s neck.

“Well,” Logan corrected, his eyes already closing.

“Yeah. Working out so well.”

Logan buried his nose once more into Patton’s hair, the warm, familiar scent lulling him back to sleep. 

“Me too,” he whispered, but Patton was already asleep. 

 

* * *

 

As Roman traveled farther east, the terrain changed drastically. The lifeless, rocky soil that marked the boundaries of what was the Dragon Witch’s territory melted seamlessly into a scrubby chaparral, a dry land that was dotted with small shrubs and thorny bushes. After that, the land became more and more familiar; as the sun passed its zenith and began to sink, Roman began to recognize his homeland more and more; it was a vast grassland with occasional groves of ash trees, the gentle eastern breeze making the grasses sway and dance. The scent of burning and decay seemed to wash away the closer and closer to home they got. 

When the endless grasslands gave way to reveal a forest growing in the distance as the sun was beginning to set, Roman nearly cried. That was the forest that surrounded his entryway to the Mind Palace, the forest that hid his castle. Eagerly, he slapped Maximus’s reigns, but the horse needed no urging; already he put on an extra burst of speed despite his exhaustion, for he too knew that they were close to home.

The closer to home he got, Roman could more clearly feel the other sides. As the forest loomed closer and closer, Virgil’s overwhelmingly swift heartbeat seemed to pound in time to his own heart. He could feel the excitement building in Virgil’s gut building in his own, and he could hardly wait to see the anxious side once again. He couldn't wait to burst through the door and race into the Mind Palace commons, showing them all the tooth of the Dragon Witch. But most of all, he couldn’t wait to just  _ hold  _ Virgil. 

It turns out, Roman didn’t have to wait that long to do all of that.

Roman was daydreaming about his triumphant return when Maximus suddenly let out a rollicking whinny. Roman, jarred from his daydreams, looked around wildly, expecting there to be danger. But Maximus wasn't stopping, and his ears weren’t pinned, so what could it be?

The horse flickered his ears forward, and Roman followed his guide. He gasped.

There, on top of the hill standing just before his forest, were three figures waving their arms with varying degrees of vivacity. One was dressed in black with a distinct blue tie, one was wearing a bright blue shirt and jumping like a maniac, while the third was bouncing and wriggling, clad in a patchwork hoodie. All three of them had bright purple hair. If Roman listened carefully over the pounding of Maximus’s hooves, he could hear them shouting his name.

“Yah, Maximus!” Roman cried, “Almost there!” 

The horse pounded up the hill, and the three figures began to run down to meet them. The one in the tie picked his way down carefully, but the others were tumbling all over themselves to meet him. The figure in the purple hoodie tripped and momentarily disappeared into the grass, but rose quickly and doggedly tried to catch up. 

Roman pulled on the reins sharply, and Maximus reared up on his hind legs, whinnying. Gracefully, Roman slid off the horse and stumbled only slightly when he hit the ground running. Maximus bolted by Logan, Patton, and Virgil, running far too fast to stop in time. There was a great collision of arms, bodies, and purple hair. All of them began talking at once. 

“ _ Roman!  _ Oh my _ goodness, you’re home! _ ” Patton shouted, wrapping his arms around him and screaming into his shirt.

“Your presence was dearly missed!” Logan cried, slapping Roman on the shoulders. 

Roman pulled away, grinning hugely. He was stumbling at the impact of Patton and Logan running into him. But his face quickly fell. He looked frantically around; where was Virgil?

Patton and Logan looked over their shoulders as they heard a rustling in the grass, and dove to the side just as a sprinting Virgil was about to knock them off their feet. Roman let out a shout of joy upon seeing him, but that quickly devolved into one of fear as Virgil slammed into his arms, and he felt himself falling backwards.  

Logan and Patton watched with both concern and deep amusement as the pair tumbled down the hill, a tangle of limbs and shouts until they landed at the bottom, sending up a cloud of dust. 

Roman lay flat on his back, gasping for breath as he lay winded. Before he could even open his eyes, he felt a heavy weight descend on his stomach, and someone was shaking his shoulders, babbling almost entirely incoherently and without stopping for breath. 

“ _ Roman Sanders  _ you absolute fucking  _ knucklehead,  _ I oughta smack the shit outta you, you dramatic ass  _ punk,  _ holy  _ fuck  _ I missed you, I-I-I...” Virgil chattered with delight, only stopping when he had to pause to suck in a huge lungful of air. He ended up just staring down at the man lying spreadeagled on the ground beneath him, a silly grin on his face.

Roman, covered in ash, dust, sweat and other debris, looked like he was about to cry. He sat up, his eyes roaming feverishly up and down Virgil, who was straddling him, almost like he couldn't believe he was there. He reached out, gathering fistfuls of Virgil’s hoodie-his  _ real  _ hoodie- and squeezed. He hadn't realized how much seeing a fake Virgil tied up and eventually eaten by the Dragon Witch had affected him until he felt the living warmth of Virgil beneath his fingers, and breathed in his minty, cinnamon scent. 

Suddenly, it was all too much. All of his physical exhaustion, along with the shaky relief and tension he had been bottling up all released at once as the dam in his eyes broke. He pulled Virgil into a fierce hug, squeezing him close so as to reassure himself that he was actually there and not in the jaws of the Dragon Witch. 

“Oh, Virgil,” Roman croaked, his voice shaking as he curled his fingers into Virgil’s hair,  “you have  _ no idea  _ how glad I am to see you.”

When Logan and Patton carefully tramped to the bottom of the hill, they did not expect to see a slightly panicking Virgil cradling an absolutely sobbing Roman in his arms, the Prince burying his ashy head into Virgil’s shoulder and shaking violently.

“Oh my  _ goodness,  _ what’s wrong?!” Patton yelped, falling to his knees besides the slumped form of Roman and wringing his hands fretfully, looking helplessly to Logan, who quickly knelt down to better examine the situation. 

But before any of them could say another word, Roman lifted his head, and all three of the terrified sides were immensely relieved to see that his filthy face was split by a huge smile. 

“I’m sorry, friends,” he said, wiping his tears away “This venture has been very taxing, both upon my body and my mind. I’m just a bit wound up; and I’m just so happy to see you all, j-just...I’m just-just _ - _ ”

His stammering broke off into a strangled sob, and he quickly buried his head back into Virgil’s shoulder, crying his eyes out but still having the grace to shoot a hasty thumbs up before squeezing Virgil with all his might. Though they were both deeply, deeply concerned (Logan was recalculating furiously- how could he be sobbing but still shoot a thumbs up sign, a gesture that usually boded well? It didn’t make any sense), they all began to understand that Roman had undoubtedly gone through a lot, and was experiencing a sensory overload. 

The others all breathed huge signs of only slightly concern-tinged relief.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, after he had finished crying, taken care of Maximus, showered, changed into comfortable pajamas, and been fed a huge meal, Roman collapsed upon the sofa, the other sides gathering around him to hear his tale. He smiled as looked into each face; Patton sitting pretzel style and facing him eagerly, Virgil sitting on the armrest, his hand absently brushing through Roman’s  hair, his legs stretched out in Roman’s lap, and Logan sitting on the ottoman, his hands folded in his lap.

“Tell us what happened!” Patton urged, kneading Roman’s leg in an impatient gesture. 

“Hey! Don’t rush him!” Virgil hissed, the hand in Roman’s hair involuntarily tightening. Roman chuckled and took Virgil’s free hand, squeezing it while he gently kissed Virgil’s knee, the closest part of him he could reach without moving much. 

“It’s alright, love,” he said to Virgil, and, looking around, began his tale. He detailed how far he had to travel, admitted how lonely he felt on the first night, and how the river was so swollen that he had a rough time crossing it. He explained how awful the Dragon Witch’s territory was, and how he couldn’t breathe without tying on a cloth mask. As he told his story, all of the sides listened in enraptured silence. Patton squeezed his arm, gasping and grinning at all the right places. Virgil was so enthralled that he didn’t realize that he was sliding off the armrest, but when he did notice he settled on eventually curling up in Roman’s lap, his head on Roman’s chest and his eyes shining. Logan listened with his face propped up in his hand, his eyes sparkling, doing his best to not interrupt out of respect for the creative side. 

The telling became more difficult when Roman reached the part about fake Virgil.

“I thought for certain that this was going to be my final battle with the Dragon Witch,” Roman said, his voice growing heavy, “There was just a feeling in my gut that this was to be the final showdown. There was no way she was going to terrorize my dear friends anymore, and there was no way she was going to prevent any more Disney sleep overs between you and I, my dear Virgil.

“But...she just...she found a way to get to me.” he said, his gaze dropping, “...she had cupped her claws together, and there was a flash of light. When she moved her claws apart…”

Roman swallowed thickly,beginning to fidget with difficulty under Virgil. 

“Go on, Ro,” Virgil said quietly against his chest, leaning up to pepper his jaw with reassuring kisses.

Roman blinked, and gazed at Virgil. He continued to speak to the room, but he found himself wanting to explain himself only to Virgil. 

“...She had you, gagged and bonded to a chair, Virgil.” 

There was a tense silence.

Logan blinked, his brow furrowing. “But that’s impossible. Virgil hasn’t left the commons for the entirety of your absence, Roman.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t know that!” Roman responded, “I thought that she had somehow managed to kidnap him. Obviously, the Virgil she had tied to a chair was a fake, but  _ fuck… _ ”

Roman looked down at Virgil, his eyes reddening again. “You seemed so real.”

There was a heavy silence as the sides digested what Roman said. Roman rested his chin on Virgil’s head. With a shuddering breath, the Prince continued. 

“I obviously was willing to do anything to get you free, love. The Dragon Witch gave me two options. One: I could either sacrifice myself, dying with knowledge that the Dragon Witch would promise keep you alive despite her plans to utterly destroy Thomas’s mind. You would…”

Roman swallowed again, and cleared his throat several times. He shook his head to clear the image of the Dragon Witch wrapping her tongue around fake Virgil’s shoulders, a perverse gleam in her eye “...She said you would make a fine slave. You’d be...a slave, but you’d be alive.”

Virgil’s fists balled in his lap, and he bit his lip. He shuddered, trying not to imagine what being the slave of the Dragon Witch could be like. Chewing on the string of his hoodie, he nestled his head closer to Roman’s chest and fiddled nervously with the golden embellishments on the creative side’s uniform.

“And Two: I could fight her, and I would inevitably lose and she would kill us both, and also ravage Thomas’s mind.”

“What! I don’t believe that for  _ one second, _ ” Patton said indignantly, “You certainly could have defeated her, Roman!”

Roman chuckled dryly. “Not in mono-a-mono combat. You guys only got to see her once, and not as closely as I did. She is massive; her very breath could knock me over. How the heckity heck would I be able to kill her if she could just exhale and knock me flat on my ass? No, I had to think of a better way to kill her, a way where she’d be too distracted.”

Patton grumbled something about believing in yourself, but quieted down when Roman continued.  

“Of course I couldn’t let option two happen.” Roman said quietly, “I had to go with option one.”

“But evidently you didn’t. Your presence here is testament to that fact,” Logan said, his features tense in concentration. 

Roman grinned and turned to face Logan. “You’re right. I didn't take either of the options because I created a third option that the Dragon Witch couldn’t refuse.”

He paused to take a breath, savoring in the tension build-up.

“Care to elaborate?!” Virgil snapped as he pawed Roman’s ribs, growing very invested in the story.

Roman leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “Please don’t be mad, love...but I made a deal with the Dragon Witch. I begged for my life, acted like a total coward, a traitor to my title,. I told her she could...told her she could do whatever she wanted to you, Patton and Logan, my kingdom, and Thomas, only if she spared my life.”

Virgil blinked, and let the words sink in. His face twisted with rage, and he was about to surge out of Roman’s lap and prepare to slap him when Roman held up his hands defensively and quickly interrupted the swear that was forming on Virgil’s lips.

“But I knew at that point that it wasn’t really  _ you  _ who was in the chair, love. Because of that, I wanted to fool her into thinking she had won over me. She would gain self confidence, and that would make her vulnerable enough for me to kill her. It was easy enough; she has... _ had _ quite the ego.” 

“But how’d you know that that Virgil was phony?” Patton asked.

“Yes, how did you?” Virgil snarled, still looking venomous.

Roman grinned, leaning slightly away from Virgil all the same. “Because the Dragon Witch modeled you to look like your  _ old  _ self, love. Virgil 1.0.”

Logan looked at Patton, and quietly whispered “Does Virgil update in the same fashion as a computer?”

Patton shook his head, and Roman sighed. “No, Logan. I mean that the fake Virgil still had brown hair and the huge black hoodie and jeans. He also had that old eye pencil as opposed to eye shadow.”

“Ah, yes. That makes sense.” Logan said, rubbing his chin and nodding minutely.

Virgil buried his head in his arms. “Oh,  _ god, _ that’s so  _ cringey. _ ”

“It’s not cringey, it’s you, love!” Roman cried, kissing Virgil’s hair. 

“But what if Virgil had just changed into his old outfit?” Logan asked, frowning in frustration.

“And dyed his hair back that quickly?” Roman asked, arching an eyebrow, “No, Logan. I was absolutely certain that the person the Dragon Witch had wasn’t Virgil. Plus, the fake Virgil just...he didn’t  _ act  _ like the real deal. You know? It is difficult to explain.”

He gazed fondly down at Virgil, who was still hiding his face in embarrassment. “I just knew it wasn’t Virgil. It was just something in my gut that knew.”

Roman smiled at the distinct blush that still tinted Virgil’s cheeks. The anxious side had uncovered his face, and had resorted to chewing his hoodie string while scowling.  Roman wrapped his arms protectively around him, and cuddled him closer to his chest.

“Besides, I know my boyfriend when I touch him.” he murmured, and Virgil’s blush flared once again. The anxious side giggled, a gentle smile on his face, limply smacking Roman but snuggling his head more comfortably into his chest nonetheless. 

“So then what happened?!” Patton urged, sounding just like a child being told a bedtime story, but the story was being told at an insufficient pace. 

“The Dragon Witch assumed that she was getting a great deal. She...She gobbled Virgil up, chair and all. But while she was chewing, I took my sword and drove it directly between her terrible eyes!” Roman declared, raising a fist in a triumphant gesture, “The Dragon Witch is no more. She is gone.”

“...I guess you could say that she is... _ Dra-gone _ ,” Patton snickered. Roman and Virgil both groaned in unison while Logan tittered his mechanical laugh indicative of an urge to leave this godforsaken timeline for one with less dad jokes. 

Roman sighed. “...I should clarify...I would  _ never  _ give any of you up for dead so that I myself may live. I would never willingly sell you out, Virgil, and I would never do anything that would indirectly cause your deaths, Patton and Logan.”

He blinked, tears forming once more in his eyes as he furtively glanced from one to side to the next. “I’d rather kill myself than do that.”

Logan blinked several times, an indicator of shock. “You did not need to clarify that, Roman. We all know this very well.”

“Yeah, of course! We already know all that! You’re the bravest, noblest, bestest of us all!” Patton cheered, squeezing Roman’s arm in a hug and giggling. 

Virgil was very quiet, ignoring Logan’s gentle lecture to Patton on why ‘bestest’ was the incorrect term. He sensed that there was something else motivating his boyfriend to say this. As he tried to catch Roman’s eye, he noticed instantly that the Prince had his self deprecating expression, an expression one had to train very hard to be able to detect. Roman would say something, and glance to each side, as if yearning for...validation.

“Ro…” Virgil said, cupping Roman’s cheek and gently tugging so that the creative side was forced to look at him, “...You don’t need to keep validating yourself to us. You don’t need our approval for every little thing. We all love you and trust that you know how to make the right decision.”

Roman blinked, a startled look forming on his features. He held Virgil’s gaze, searching for some kind of lie, but he couldn’t find any simply because there was no lie.

And also because Virgil flicked his gaze away, his cheeks flushing as the discomfort of looking someone in the eyes for too long washed over him.

Roman laughed in relief, and leaned down, capturing Virgil’s mouth in a kiss. 

They only separated when they heard Patton grumble “...So, you’re telling me the bestest way of saying ‘bestest’...is just ‘best’?!”

Roman laughed. Everything was forgiven, and everything was going to be alright.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, Verge, I think we both can agree that you were right in saying that my venturing into the land of the Dragon Witch was indeed a bad idea.”

It was night, long after Roman had recounted his adventures of the past three days. Logan and Patton had retired to their room, the room that was previously purely Logan’s, after giving Roman strict instructions to sleep late the following morning. Afterwards, Roman and Virgil had returned to the sleeping quarters of Roman’s room, feeling safe to do whatever they pleased now that the evil presence of the Dragon Witch was gone.

Virgil, lying on his side, looked from his phone screen to Roman, who was lying next to him once more, his arm curled protectively around the anxious side’s stomach. Virgil was certain that Roman had fallen asleep.

“...Yeah it was a bad idea, you dumbfuck. You shoulda listened to me,” Virgil whispered. He chuffed when Roman made a hurt nose and spooned Virgil closer to his chest. 

“No, I don’t mean that...much. It turned out to be a good idea because the Dragon Witch is gone and I don’t have to worry about her sending some weird monster in here when we’re trying to have a moment.” Virgil murmured, shifting so that his back pressed against the comforting warmth of Roman’s torso. 

“No, you’re right, love,” Roman murmured sleepily against his neck, “I should listen to you more.”

Virgil hummed in agreement, his eyes suddenly becoming very heavy as the living warmth of Roman engulfed him. He had worked himself up for the past few days, and all of the mental and physical tension was taking its toll. He was suddenly exhausted.

“...I’m sorry I worry you so much, Virgil,” Roman murmured in his ear. 

Virgil blinked back into wakefulness long enough to turn his neck as far as it could go and squint at Roman. The room was too dark for Virgil to accurately make out his features, but he could almost guarantee that Roman was looking self deprecating and apologetic again. 

“Don’t be,” Virgil murmured, cuddling even closer to his boyfriend so that their legs became entangled under the blankets, “Anything you do that worries me is always either for my own benefit or everyone else’s. And though it can be really fucking awful sometimes, worrying so much, I’m always grateful when you finish whatever it was you were doing. Like right now, because of you killing the Dragon Witch, I finally feel…”

Virgil was lost for a good word to describe the utter complacency he felt in that exact moment.

“...Peaceful?” Roman offered, his voice fading as he was falling asleep.

Virgil grinned, taking the hand that was holding his chest and gently kissing it. 

“Yes,” he whispered, “Peaceful.”

The hand squeezed his, but after a few moments, gradually loosened its grip. Roman’s deep breaths were smooth and even. He must be asleep.

“Goodnight, dork,” Virgil said, turning off his phone and closing his eyes.

“Goodnight, love,” Roman responded promptly yet sleepily, taking Virgil by surprise.

There was a few moments of peaceful silence. 

“I love you, Roman.”

“I love you too, Virgil.”

Summer crickets and katydids could be heard outdoors, and a calm Western breeze blew in from an open window. The two figures curled close together were lulled off to sleep by the gentle sounds of their beating hearts.

This time, they did not have to strain themselves to hear the other’s heartbeat. Here, their heartbeats were together. Here, their heartbeats were peaceful and safe. 

Here, they were home.

 

~fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, gang, that's it! For all of you who have stuck with me in real time for the past few weeks, I love you and cannot thank you enough. I have read all of your comments, and believe you me, they bring endless happiness and pride to my life. Thank you so much. If you're reading this later, I love you too. 
> 
> If you guys haven't already, you can find me on Tumblr @theonlyjelly-iwillput-inmybelly. Though it will take me a while to post my next multi-chapter fic, as I adhere to a finish before publish policy, I will gladly take prompts for oneshots on Tumblr. You can come to look at stupid Sanders Sides memes, be up to date on my shorter writings, or just come say hi!
> 
> Thanks again, folks.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact! This fic was only meant to be three sentences
> 
> It morphed into eight chapters. Need I say 'oops'?


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